Road of Sacrifice
by LadyVisionary
Summary: As the war against Voldemort continues, Buffy struggles with what it means to be the Slayer, while the Order has to do its best to find light in the darkness. Can a prophecy change the tide or will its existence result in more tragedy?
1. Sacrifice

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

TIMELINE  
Part 3 in_ Roads Travelled._ A year and a half post the marauders last year at Hogwarts: The first war continues (1980-1981).

STORY SUMMARY  
BTVS/HP crossover. The war continues with more battles and losses. Caught up in the middle, Buffy and co. have to do their best to find light in the darkness. Buffy search for her roots and a balance in her life: what does it means to be the Slayer in the world she now calls home - but can answers be found anywhere but in Sunnydale? Voldemort's hold on Britain grows stronger and the Order weaker due to death and betrayal from within. Can a prophecy change the tide for the better or will its existence result in even more death?

CENTRAL PAIRING  
Buffy/Remus

OTHER PAIRINGS  
James/Lily, Sirius/OC, Severus/Dorcas, Frank/Alice.

* * *

_Sacrifice. _

_We have all lost something in this war. Someone. So many sacrifices have been made, and I wonder, how many more awaits us? Everyone has changed, and sometimes, I don't even recognise myself. This war is making us lose pieces of ourselves and while I still have hope for tomorrow, it is slowly being diminished by all the death and despair. I wish for peace. I wish our child will never know war, that he will never have to sacrifice what we have sacrificed, or see what we have seen. But for the moment, my wishes will continue to remain what they have been for a long while now – dreams._

_- Lily Potter._

* * *

**1 January, 1980**

Buffy and Remus were slowly walking down the silent roads in the city of Canterbury, the only light coming from the streetlights above. Neither spoke, both lost in their own thoughts. They both felt guilt over what had happened to Mandy: Remus, because he had left her side in the battle where she was taken, and Buffy, because she was the reason he had. On top of that, Sirius blamed Remus as well, and also seemed to be of the belief that he was on Voldemort's side. That didn't exactly make the situation any better and things were strained between all the marauders at the moment.

Buffy sighed. And it all came down to her. If only she had stayed at home... _'I shouldn't have been in that fight,'_ Buffy thought, inwardly shaking her head at her own stubbornness. She had known she wasn't ready, but she had gone anyway, with a desperate need to prove that the incident in Diagon Alley – where she had accidentally staked and killed a man – was not affecting her. From the way things had turned out – with Mandy kidnapped and herself unconscious – it was perfectly clear that she was not alright.

Absently, Buffy fingered the healed bite-mark on her neck from where a vampire had gotten her. Yet another scar to add to her collection. She had recovered completely from the battle of Hogsmeade – physically at least. But mentally…well, to be honest, Buffy wasn't quite sure where she stood.

Glancing at Remus, Buffy found herself glad for his company, even if neither of them seemed to be up for talking. Just his presence helped to assure her that if they stumbled upon a vampire, and Buffy faltered, like she had at Hogsmeade, Remus would be there.

At the moment, Buffy didn't trust herself: that she wouldn't freeze or mess up somehow, even if this was just an ordinary patrol. Right now, that was the closest thing to full out battle Buffy thought she could handle and a good way to ease herself back into the thick of things. Slowly, one to step at a time. To have Remus with her was a great comfort.

It had been stupid of her, really, Buffy admitted to herself, to not let him or any of the other marauders join her on patrol before. After all, she had never hesitated to let the Scoobies come along when they wanted to. Truthfully, the marauders would probably be of more use in a fight than her old friends – minus Angel, of course – had. With Xander and Willow, Buffy always had had to worry about their safety as well as her own. But the marauders were capable wizards and more than able to handle themselves in a pinch.

As to why she hadn't let them...well, that was a mixture of unreasonable over-protectiveness and the fact that her patrols were a part of her old life in Sunnydale. Buffy felt that she wanted to keep something from that time in her life to herself, something that could remain unaffected by her new life here. Perhaps the fact that she was finally letting Remus join her was her way of acknowledging that Sunnydale was truly behind her now, in every way. She would always cherish her memories of her friends, her mom, and of Angel, but what she had now was just as real and every bit as important to her.

"Hey." Remus nudged her. "That scene over there looks rather suspicious."

Buffy frowned, looking at the couple that were making out further up the street. "Are you sure?" She asked doubtfully. Her spider-sense wasn't tingling. But then again, how much of her own instincts could she depend on right now?

"Very sure," Remus answered, eyes gleaming amber for a second.

It was New Year's Day, and also, the day before the full moon. Remus' senses were sharper than usual. While he ordinary would have spent the day resting, he had decided to accompany Buffy when she said she was heading out on patrol to clear her head and take her mind off things.

Buffy nodded and slowly pulled out her stake, ignoring the voices in her head that told her to put the stake down, that it was a mistake. She had to trust Remus, she decided, since she couldn't rely on herself. Buffy's current 'instincts' were nothing more than her fears - that she would accidentally kill another human - coming up to the surface. She had to get rid of that. She hated this doubt, this uncertainty in her own abilities, and how it was making her all conflicted and messed up.

"So...is it a fang-boy or a fang-girl?" Buffy asked, wanting to know which one to stake.

"Both," Remus stated and Buffy wrinkled her nose. Eew. A vampire couple – that reminded her far too much of Spike and Drusilla and their twisted relationship.

"Great. So...one for you and one for me?" Buffy suggested.

"Sound good."

The two slowly approached the couple, but when they were only ten feet or so away, both vampires suddenly snapped their heads around, their true visage of fangs and yellow eyes clearly visible as they growled.

Remus winced and grimaced. "My fault," he said. "Sorry. They can probably smell that I'm a werewolf."

Buffy sighed, twirling her stake in her hand, knowing the element of surprise was over. So there was a downside to patrolling with Remus. But then again, she usually preferred a straight-on attack rather than a sneaky one. "Well, well...what do we have here?" She asked the vampires.

"Who are you?" The male vampire growled.

"I'm the Slayer," Buffy offered casually. Both vampires looked at her in confusion. Huh. So they didn't work for Voldemort and they hadn't heard the myth either. "She-who-hangs-in-cemeteries?"

"You're in a city," the female vamp pointed out dumbly and Buffy sighed. People like her were the reason stupid blonde jokes were around. But then again, those same jokes really helped her out when she wanted to play a stupid blonde, so perhaps she shouldn't complain.

"No? Really? We hadn't noticed," Remus said sarcastically, slowly slipping his wand out from beneath his sleeve.

"Why are you here, werewolf?" The male vampire snapped out, yellow eyes narrowing.

"Just taking a stroll through the neighbourhood," Remus answered casually.

"You should have stayed away from this one," the male growled and then attacked. Seeing her boyfriend go on the offense, the female vampire did the same, after a short moment of hesitation.

"_Incendio!" _Remus called out and the male vampire found himself on fire. In the meantime, Buffy side-stepped the females sloppy punch towards her face, making her stumble. A stake to the back later, and she was dust. Buffy and Remus turned to look at the still burning vampire as he screamed and finally combusted.

"How did that feel?" Remus asked.

"Good," Buffy answered. "At least I didn't falter."

"Always a good first step," Remus said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "So, what do you say? Want to continue our romantic stroll? Well, until we stumble upon another vampire, that is." He looked up at the nearly full moon. Tomorrow, it would be his bane, but today, it was still beautiful. Just like the woman beside him.

"Lead the way," Buffy said, resting her head against his shoulder. Things were decidedly bad right now. But with Remus by her side, she was certain everything would be fine.

* * *

Mandy whimpered in pain as Bellatrix cancelled the Cruciatus she had been held under.

"The pain will stop," Voldemort said as Mandy coughed, taking deep breaths, to try and regain some composure. Her voice was hoarse from the screaming she'd done, her mind sluggish from the torture, and it took a while for the Dark Lord's voice to register. "If you join us...and convince your boyfriend to do the same, I will be more than happy to let you go."

Mandy laughed hoarsely. "Forget it. I will never join you. I will die first."

"That can be arranged," Bellatrix cackled, raising her wand again and Mandy tensed, preparing herself for another onslaught. _"CRUCIO!"_

Several seconds went by – for Mandy, they felt like an eternity as incapacitating pain travelled up her nerves, forcing more screams up her throat – until Voldemort held up a hand. "Enough."

Bellatrix lowered her wand.

"Have you changed your mind?" The Dark Lord asked mildly. "Like I said...agree to my terms and this – the pain – will be over. If you don't...well, I'm afraid things don't look too bright for you in that case. And as for Sirius Black...he will join me, one way or another, with or without your cooperation. Of that I am certain."

"You're insane if you think that," Mandy choked out.

"Am I?" Voldemort raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Tell me, girl, how much is your life worth to him? Quite a lot, from what I've heard. With you in our grasp, we can make him do anything. I am certain he will soon try to make some sort of deal for your release. It's simple really. He joins us, and you go free."

"He would never do that," Mandy spat out. "Firstly, Sirius is not stupid enough to believe you'd actually leave me unharmed if he joins you. Secondly, he would never turn his back on the light – not even to save me."

The cell door suddenly opened and a Death Eater – Snape – stepped inside, holding a note, which he handed to Voldedimort. "This just arrived, my Lord."

"Hmm...that didn't take long. And we didn't even have to send any incentive. He must be really desperate to get you back." He looked down at Mandy, a wicked smile on his face. "You should feel honoured that he cares so much." The Dark Lord unfolded the note, his smirk widening as he read. "I believe you would benefit from reading this," he told Mandy, holding out the note in front of Mandy, who froze.

That handwriting...she could recognize that anywhere. Sirius.

_I KNOW YOU HAVE MANDY WALKER. I AM WILLING TO MAKE A BARGAIN. NAME A TIME AND PLACE. SB._

"It seems you were wrong about him," Voldemort told Mandy smugly, even as the former Ravenclaw shook her head in denial. "Apparently, he is that stupid - stupid, and in love. A dangerous combination." His red eyes darkened. "I no longer have any need for your cooperation. Bella, feel free to continue your...little exercise. Just don't kill her. Yet."

* * *

"Have you heard anything from Sirius at all?" Lily asked James who shook his head. The married couple were lying on their bed, staring up at the high ceiling above their heads.

"No. Not since the battle of Hogsmeade. And believe me, I've tried to talk to him but he's ignoring me."

"Is Dumbledore still of the opinion that nothing can be done about Mandy?" Lily bit her lips. "It just seems so wrong to leave her in the hands of that..._monster _and not even try to get her out."

"I agree, but where would we start to look?" James sighed, frustrated. "All of Voldemort's hideouts are very well hidden, and even if we knew where she was being held... I'd take the risk of course – it's Mandy – but to go into Voldemort's Headquarters and come out alive? It seems rather impossible."

"Like everything else these days," Lily whispered sadly. "Lately, it's just one bad thing after another."

"Hey," James turned to look at the red-head, a frown between his eyebrows as he rolled over onto his side and placed a hand against her stomach, reminding Lily of the life now growing within, not yet visible from the outside. "Not just bad things."

Lily smiled weakly. "I am happy about the pregnancy James, but...at the same time, I'm afraid. I can't help but think we're fools to have a baby during war-time. What kind of world will we bring him – or her – into?"

"The war will be over by then," James said firmly. "It has to be."

"But what if it isn't?" Lily questioned. "What if it never ends? What if our child has to grow up in darkness, constantly afraid? I don't want that. I don't want our baby to have to face that. What sort of life would that be?"

"I promise, that's not going to happen," James said determinately. "The war _will _end, and our child will be safe. Happy. I swear."

"How can you know that?" Lily asked brokenly, her green eyes filled with sorrow and fear.

"Do you trust me?" James asked, pulling her close.

"You know I do," Lily mumbled.

"Then trust me on this. Trust that I know what I'm talking about."

Lily sighed, slowly relaxing. "Alright." She knew James' promise may turn out to be a lie – knew that he couldn't really ensure a safe future for their child – but for the moment, she would allow herself to believe him. "When are we going to tell the others? About the baby, I mean?"

"I don't know," James mumbled. "Right now...with Mandy gone, it doesn't seem to be the right time."

"Once she's back?" Lily asked, looking up at James.

"Yeah." James nodded. "Once she's back." Neither he, nor Lily, dared to voice what they both were thinking: that Mandy may not come back at all. That would make the possibility of that outcome all too real. For now, they had to hope that everything would turn out alright. That Mandy would not end up another sacrifice in this war, which appeared to become more and more pointless for every day that dragged on.

* * *

**3 January**

"How much does You-Know-Who trust you?" Dorcas asked, after having recovered her breath from the – admittedly brilliant – sex she had just had with Severus. Inwardly, she wondered at which point she had begun to think of him by his first name, rather than as just Snape.

"As much as he trusts anyone, I suppose," Severus said, sounding bored, and utterly calm. Amazing, how the man managed to be that composed all the time. "Why do you ask?"

Dorcas bit her lip while fingering the thin sheet covering her body absently. White cotton. That had come as a surprise for her when she first became familiar with Severus' bed – to be honest, she had expected him to use black silk or something. "Do you know where Mandy Walker is being held?" She finally asked bluntly, deciding not to step around the issue. Dumbledore had asked her to find out as much as possible about Mandy's situation, as long as she wasn't doing anything to risk herself and her position. Dorcas figured asking Severus what he knew would be her best bet.

"Even if I did...what business would that be of yours?" Severus asked, stiffening slightly. Most people wouldn't have noticed, but Dorcas did.

"You know very well why," Dorcas snapped, leaning up on an elbow. "What does the Dark Lord want with her anyway?" Severus only let an eyebrow rise, a clear sign that he wasn't going to answer her question, and Dorcas let out a noise of frustration. "Can't you just tell me?"

"Why should I?" Snape answered. "Our arrangement doesn't extend that far. I've agreed not to expose you to the Dark Lord, that's all."

"Oh, cut the crap!" Dorcas snapped, standing up and pulling her clothes on jerkily. "Since you've known the truth about my allegiance since the very beginning, if you expose me, I will expose you. _And_ that you're having second thoughts about your own loyalty."

Severus only smirked. "True. But the Dark Lord values me. While as of yet, you've been of little use. And besides, even if I told him about you, he wouldn't find out about me unless you tell him. And no matter how much you _threaten_ to do it, you won't actually do so. You're too...pure-hearted." His lips curled.

Dorcas glowered at him, knowing he was right. "So you're not going to tell me _anything _about Mandy? At all? She's little more than a girl, Severus. Are you just going to stand by as You-Know-Who does Merlin knows what with her?"

"Yes." Severus said calmly. "And little more than a girl or not, she's still a member of your little resistance – her age is clearly not a concern. If she can't handle the fight, she shouldn't have gotten herself involved. Besides, I have little love for Walker for the very simple reason that I hate Sirius Black. I could care less about what happens to her."

Dorcas clenched her fists. "Are you really that cold?" She asked.

"I am a Death Eater," he reminded her, cocking his head to the side. "You tell me." Dorcas only huffed. "Are you leaving?" Severus changed the subject, sitting up in the bed to stare at the now fully-dressed Order-member.

"Yes," Dorcas bit out. "Why shouldn't I? You've never given any indication that you wanted me to stick around after our _activities _before," she turned a curious eye at the former Slytherin. Was it possible that he was...beginning to care?

"A man is allowed to change his mind," Severus said calmly. "Besides, the only reason I want you to stay is so that you can uphold your end of our agreement. Lily. Tell me about her." The tone of his voice made it clear that it wasn't a request and Dorcas sighed. More fool her for thinking the man might actually start to develop feelings. It wasn't that she personally cared if he did – oh, no – but it might make it easier for her to find out things about the Dark Lord if he did. Or at least that's what she told herself.

"She's upset about Mandy being kidnapped, of course." Dorcas eyes suddenly glinted. "If you truly care about Lily, helping Mandy, or at least telling me what you know, would be a good way to prove it."

Severus chuckled amusedly. "Nice try, Meadowes, but that's not going to happen. What else?"

Dorcas sighed in frustration. "I don't know what else to tell you. I'm not exactly a close friend of hers. We're acquaintances only."

"Then _make a little more effort,"_ Snape said through gritted teeth, clearly losing his patience. "Prove to me that this bargain of ours wasn't a mistake, and that I actually _gain_ something from it."

"Other than sex, you mean?" Dorcas asked sarcastically, unable to help herself.

"Yes. Other than that. To be honest," Snape said with a raised eyebrow, "it's not that good. Certainly not worth my time and effort to keep your little charade going. The only thing good enough to do that, is to give me what I want. Which is information about Lily Evans."

Dorcas' left eye twitched. Merlin, he was infuriating! "You do know she's Lily Potter now, right?" She asked, knowing the mention of Lily's marriage to James would certainly bring about a reaction. And sure enough...

"I prefer not to acknowledge that," Snape spat, his nostrils flaring in anger.

"I know. Why do you think I mentioned it?" Dorcas smirked, before slipping out the door, happy to get the last word in, for once. While she couldn't say her...encounters with Severus was always pleasant, or ended in victory for her (in fact, this was the only time it had happened so far) at least the verbal spats were amusing.

Severus challenged her, and his dark, sarcastic manner, while infuriating, also appealed to her. In the Order, the person who came closest was Caradoc, but in comparison to Severus, the Slytherin won, hands down. Moody was too morbid, and Buffy, while her puns were amusing, lacked the bite that Severus' comments had.

Perhaps that's why she was both drawn to and repulsed by him. Whatever the case, there was something about him that kept her interested. After all, nothing in their bargain said she had to sleep with him, and yet, she found herself constantly returning to his bed, despite knowing he only saw her as a temporary replacement for the woman he really wanted - Lily. And even though it had been less than three months since they first met, she was even start to trust him somewhat.

Time would tell if that was a mistake or not.

* * *

**5 January**

"Good work everyone!" Buffy said, grinning at the exhausted looking Order members who were all accepting hand-to-hand combat training from her. This was something she still felt comfortable doing – training others in ways that would give them an advantage in a fight even if she herself were not yet ready to return to said fight.

Looking around at the group, Buffy inwardly sighed: Sirius should be here, but today, he was noticeably absent, without a legitimate reason like Edgar, who had a Wizengamot meeting to attend, and Moody, who was pulling extra hours at the Auror Department. Lily too had opted to sit this session out, but unlike Sirius, she was here anyway.

The red-head was looking both tired and green around the gills so perhaps she was ill and that was why she wasn't participating. The fact that Lily was constantly rubbing her head, as though she was suffering from a headache, only supported that theory. "I think you're really coming along well. James – you're improving quickly – I think you have a talent for this. Dorcas, you as well."

"Perhaps it's our backgrounds as members of a Hogwarts Quidditch-team," James half-joked. "The reflexes we developed there have certainly come in handy at least."

"I wouldn't be surprised. Frank and Alice, you're both doing great as well, so I imagine Auror training must help too." Buffy stated, frowning when she noted Alice too was looking a bit peaky. Had her training session been too tough today? "Umm...everyone, make sure to tell me if I'm working you too hard," the Slayer added, feeling slightly guilty. It was easy for her to forget that the Order members didn't have her stamina or background in physical fighting. "Caradoc and Eliza, you're working really well together. So is everyone else, for that matter, so next time we meet, everyone should switch partners to get some variation."

"Great," Caradoc said sourly. "Can we go and get ourselves cleaned up now?"

Eliza elbowed him. "Be less snarky, Caradoc," the French girl admonished and the dark haired man snorted, along with the majority of other Order-members.

"Caradoc? Less snarky?" Frank asked loudly with a raised eyebrow. "That's like asking Dumbledore to stop eating lemon drops – it's not going to happen. _Ever."_

The group sniggered, all of them ignoring Caradoc's glare of death.

"Yes, Caradoc, you can get yourself cleaned up," Buffy said. "I think the real meeting is about to start anyway." Today, they were in Longbottom manor once again, since Frank's mother was out socializing – or in other words, having tea with her friends.

Everyone walked out of the large ball-room they had used as a practice hall, most of them wincing from sore muscles and cramps. There, they met Dumbledore, Elphias Doge and the other Order-members who weren't part of the physical training group, as well as Moody and Edgar, who must have been done at the Ministry for the day. Sirius was still not present. "If we could all gather in the living room," Dumbledore spoke, "we can begin the meeting immediately. Edgar has an important piece of news."

Caradoc's grumble of annoyance could clearly be heard and the sweaty Order-member exchanged sighs. It seemed a simple cleaning charm would be all they had time to do.

"I'm glad we are all in agreement," the Headmaster said jovially, beaming at his Order, ignoring the sour looks sent in his direction from more than one person.

* * *

Sirius was tense as he stood in the shadow-filled side street in Knockturn Alley, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. He had gotten a response from Voldemort a lot sooner than he had thought, and for that, he was both grateful and terrified. Grateful, because it meant he might get Mandy back quicker, and terrified because he had never thought he'd ever do something like this: that he would ever meet voluntarily with a Death Eater outside of a battlefield.

What kind of person was he becoming? But then again, desperation rarely knew any bounds and he had to make sure Mandy was safe. He could not just leave her in Voldemort's grasp. He had already lost his brother – he refused to lose Mandy as well.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius vowed that as soon as she was okay, he would try and convince her to take the position with Gringotts in Egypt, far away from this mess. He was more than aware that the only reason she had been taken was because Voldemort wanted to get to him. Why, he didn't know, but he had his suspicions.

A near silent 'crack' of apparation filled Sirius' ears and he spun around, wand raised, and came face to face with his mad cousin. "Bella," he spat. "I should have known he would send you for this."

"Now, now, mind your manners, cousin," Bellatrix said with a wide grin and a cocked head. "And put that wand down before you hurt yourself."

After making sure that Bellatrix' own wand was nowhere in sight, Sirius did as she asked, his eyes narrowed. "Where is Mandy?" He demanded to know.

"Ask no questions, and I will tell you no lies," Bellatrix cackled, twirling a strand of her black hair between her fingers. "Now...my Lord is a reasonable man. Your little girlfriend will be returned to you – alive – if you join our cause."

"Forget it," Sirius spat.

Bellatrix shrugged carelessly. "Alright. Your loss."

"Wait!" Sirius exclaimed. "Don't leave. Just..." He swallowed. "I'll do anything. Except that. I can't betray the Order that way."

His cousin's eyes gleamed as a smug smile appeared on her face. "What if your girlfriend did?"

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "She never would. Firstly, she's muggleborn. Secondly, even if she wasn't, she'd never join you anyway. None of my friends would." He pushed away the doubt he held regarding Remus – despite the things he'd seen and heard to make Sirius suspect him, he knew, deep down, that the possibility of him joining Voldemort was unlikely. Mandy had made him see that. And as for his outburst in the hospital wing...that had been his emotions over Mandy's disappearance overtaking his common sense. That, and blaming Remus was easier than blaming himself.

"But one of them already has," Bellatrix cocked her head again and Sirius froze.

What? Had he been right after all? Was Remus a traitor? "You're lying," Sirius finally said. Even if Remus had switched sides, he couldn't let his doubt show in front of his cousin. She already had the advantage, and what was worse, she knew it. Merlin, would his uncertainty regarding Remus' loyalties never come to an end?

"Believe what you want," Bellatrix said, sounding bored. "Now...you have heard our terms. Join us, or she dies."

"I - " Sirius licked his lips. "Why does Voldemort want me so bad?"

Bellatrix let out a low growl at the sound of her master's name. "The Dark Lord always knows what's best."

"Fine," Sirius said. "Release Mandy, and we can talk more about this. She means nothing to you anyway – the only reason you have her is because you want me. If you let her go, I'll – I'll do it. I'll join Voldemort." He was lying, of course.

Bella smiled, all-too-serenely. "Very well. I will tell the Dark Lord of your decision," she said. She knew Sirius was lying. He would never join her master. That the Dark Lord thought the possibility was there, even if it was to save someone Sirius claimed to 'love' was ridiculous. Her cousin would never be swayed from the light.

"You'll release Mandy?" Sirius asked, desperately. "I've...I've agreed. You have no more need of her."

"That's true," Bella smirked curtsied mockingly in her cousin's direction, and apparated away.

Sirius stood alone in the alley, breathing heavily, feeling cold inside. He had done what he could. All he could do now was hope Bellatrix had bought his act and that Mandy would be returned to him safely.

* * *

Gathered in the Longbottom's living room, Dumbledore was the first to speak. "Edgar, why don't you share our news with the Order?"

Edgar nodded, standing up from his seat. "During the Wizengamot session today, Brutus Tool resigned from his post as Minister of Magic." Whispers amongst the Order broke out. "I think we can all agree it was just a matter of time before this happened. The confidence in Tool has been rapidly declining for a long while," Edgar continued.

"Who are the new candidates?" Alice asked. "I know the press has been suggesting you, Bagnold and Crouch..."

"Actually..." Edgar glanced at Dumbledore. "Well, I think I'll let Albus field this one."

"Due to the current conflict in our world," Dumbledore said, "the usually fairly long process of first selecting candidates for the post, and then the month-long open Wizengamot session during which discussion and finally, voting, takes place, was not possible. As such, during the Wizengamot session today, after Brutus resigned, the vote for a new Minister occurred immediately."

"Merlin, please, don't tell me Crouch won?" James begged.

"Indeed, he did not," Dumbledore assured them and a noticeable breath of relief went through the Order. "But it was a close thing. Our new Minister of Magic is Millicent Bagnold."

"Not Edgar then?" Frank said. "That would have made things easier for us. What do we know about Bagnold?"

"Not much," Edgar admitted. "But...well, as you know the Wizengamot consists of several upstanding members of society. Unfortunately, as you also know, many of those same 'upstanding' members are purebloods and secretly supporters of Voldemort. I believe they are the reason Crouch did not win: his stance on Death Eaters are very well known. Likewise, my allegiance with the light and Dumbledore is also well known. There were also a few other candidates, more or less known, but I believe most of Voldemort's supporters voted for Bagnold because...well, she's a woman. It would be in Voldemort's best interest to have someone he considers weak and malleable on the Minister post, and it is clear he and his Death Eaters tend to underestimate females."

There were nods of agreement. That was true. With the exception of Bellatrix and a few others, Voldemort really didn't seem to think much of women. More fool him.

"So does that make Bagnold's appointment good or bad for us, then?" Eliza asked hesitantly.

"It is difficult to say," Moody said gruffly. "It could be worse, but until we know more about her, we won't know. The next few weeks should make it clear what sort of Minister she'll be. Let's hope it's in our favour." He sounded grim.

* * *

"My Lord," Bella entered the cell and kneeled by Voldemort's feet. Voldemort lowered his wand from Mandy's shaking and bleeding form to turn his attention to the female Death Eater.

"Bella, my most loyal," Voldemort breathed out. "How did the meeting with Black go?"

Tied to her chair, Mandy noticeably shivered, a small sob escaping her.

"As we suspected it would, my Lord," Bella answered. "He will not join our cause, even for her." She sneered at Mandy who let out an audible sigh of relief: if Sirius betrayed everything he believed in – switched sides – just because of her – she would never have been able to forgive him. "He tried to pretend otherwise though, in a pathetic attempt to get her back alive."

"And what did you say?" The Dark Lord asked.

"I pretended to believe him," Bella said proudly. "And made sure to hint at the fact that one of his friends is a traitor."

Mandy tensed. One of their friends was working for Voldemort? Or was it another trick?

"And thanks to our other efforts, Black will, of course, come to the wrong conclusion," Voldemort mused, a small smile playing at his face. "Excellent. Everything is coming together the way I planned."

"What do we do about Walker, my master?" Bella asked, turning vindictive eyes in Mandy's direction. "Do I have your permission to kill her?"

"No," Voldemort answered and Bella's expression turned into one of outrage, even as Mandy stared in disbelief. They were going to let her live? "We will return Black's girlfriend, since he asked so nicely." Mandy could hardly believe it, and neither could Bellatrix.

"My Lord!" Bella exclaimed. "You can't possibly mean - " At the Dark Lord's admonishing look, she fell silent.

Voldemort smirked. "As I said, we will return her, alive." Mandy closed her eyes in sheer gratefulness. That is, until Voldemort's next words reached her ears: "Bella, you have my permission to do whatever you want with her...as long as it doesn't leave any permanent damage..._physically."_

As Mandy froze and her eyes widened in horror, Bellatrix turned a delighted expression in her direction, pulling out her wand, laughing crazily.

"I will leave you to it. Let me know when you're done playing," Voldemort said and exited the cell, leaving Mandy alone, with Bellatrix.

The female Death Eater smiled cruelly. _"CRUCIO!"_

* * *

_**Published: **__30/06 -11_

* * *

**A Note From the Author**

And so begins _Road of Sacrifice._ This story will, like the story summary reveals, focus on Buffy's search for balance and the meaning of her life, as well as Slayer mythology, the Order's struggles, and a prophecy. As the story title witnesses, there will be losses...but there will also be life and hope, mainly in the form of little Harry Potter and the conclusion of the first war.

_Enjoy the road,__  
Ida (ladyvisionary)_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Millicent Bagnold is the Minister who preceded Cornelius Fudge in office.


	2. Memories

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**7**** January**

Remus entered the Lupin cottage, two shopping bags with food in his hands. "Buffy?" He yelled out, but got no answer. Shrugging, he went to the kitchen and began to unpack the groceries, figuring she was still at work. He had just closed the door to the freezer when heavy thuds from the basement reached his ears. Frowning in suspicion, he slowly made his way downstairs, wand outstretched. Remus eyes widened as he took in the scene in front of him, while lowering his wand.

Buffy, after sending a spinning kick at the sandbag hanging from the ceiling, turned to face her boyfriend, a smile on her face. "Remus, hi! I'd hug you, but I'm sweaty."

Slightly bemused, Remus looked around the basement which looked quite different from how it usually appeared. In one corner of the room, there was a thick mattress. In another, a vaulting horse stood, and in a third, a large chest which contained a large amount of stakes and bottles of holy water.

From the ceiling, along with the sandbag, a pair of gymnastic rings hung. Fighting staffs of different sizes had been placed against one of the walls, and above those hung Buffy's assortment of knives, crossbows and swords. Another wall seemed to have been made into something for target practice, painted as large dartboard.

Eyebrows rising comically high, Remus looked at Buffy in obvious surprise. "You've been busy I see?" He said, lips twitching.

Buffy scratched her neck in slight embarrassment. "I might have gotten a bit carried away in setting things up," she admitted. "But I needed this. _Need _this," she corrected herself. "To get over what happened in Diagon Alley, I've decided I need to go back to basics. And that includes a training room in the basement since we don't have a library. Sunnydale thing," she added when she saw Remus open his mouth to - without a doubt - ask why anyone would like to work out in a library.

"Huh. Alright then. Did you conjure all of this?" Remus asked. "Quite a feat, I'd say."

"Ah…not exactly," Buffy threw him an embarrassed grin. "I mean, conjured stuff doesn't last forever. I actually bought most of this."

Remus' eyes bulged out of his head._ "BOUGHT _this?" He repeated, gawking. "Buffy…where did you get the money from?"

"I robbed a bank," Buffy deadpanned. "Kidding," she added when she saw Remus' expression. "You know how I've been saving some of my salary from my work at St. Mungo's for a rainy day? I mean the parts we didn't need to get by on?" At Remus' nod she continued: "Yeah, I figured the rainy day was here." She threw Remus' a pleading look. "I know, it's excessive and I guess I don't really need it all and I can return it, but it's making me feel better. It's…comforting. Familiar. Slayer-ish."

"Buffy, there's no need to explain," Remus said, smiling at her. "I understand. And I'm not going to let you return it. It's your money."

"Still…" Buffy bit her lip.

"Buffy," Remus interrupted. "I'm not going to let you feel guilty over this. Like I said, I get it. You need this. It's fine. I do have a question though," he added even as Buffy's face lit up. And wasn't that a sight for sore eyes, he mused to himself.

"Shoot," Buffy a said, still grinning stupidly.

"Where am I going to spend the full moon now?"

Buffy's smile promptly slid off her face. "I guess that little detail slipped my mind," she admitted sheepishly.

Remus chuckled. "That's okay. As long as you're with me and we lock all entrances to the house, things should be fine. Moony is always calm in your company."

Buffy nodded. "True. By the way, why do you do that?" She asked.

Remus gave her a confused look. "Do what?"

"Call the wolf Moony, like he's a different part of you. Why do you separate yourself like that?" Buffy asked, inwardly wincing as Remus' face became a blank mask.

"I'm not the wolf, it's that simple," Remus said shortly. "I'll go get started on dinner." He hurriedly ran up the stairs, leaving Buffy sighing after him. She was finally facing her demons, but it seemed Remus was not even remotely ready to face his, if ever. Still, he had to accept the wolf as a part of him, or else he would never be whole: he would always regard himself as a monster (a monster he definitely wasn't).

* * *

**8 January**

"Still no news on my sister?" Kelly asked, finally breaking the terse silence between her and Sirius. Since she arrived to the apartment from her hotel in hopes for an update, the two had done nothing but glare at each other in silent anger.

"No," Sirius answered shortly and Kelly snorted.

"I'm glad to see your obvious concern for her welfare, Black," the muggle snapped and Sirius' eyes flashed in anger.

"You don't know anything," he said through gritted teeth. "I _love_ Mandy."

"Even if I believed you, your so-called-love hasn't exactly helped her, now has it?" Kelly pointed out.

Sirius' clenched his fists, trying to desperately rein in his temper. "Look, Kelly – " He got interrupted by a flapping of wings and both he and Kelly turned to look at the black owl approaching his open window. The owl had barely landed on the window-sill before Sirius ripped the note from its beak. The bird let out an indignant hoot before it took off. With shaking hands, Sirius opened the letter.

"Well?" Kelly demanded. "What is it? Who's it from?"

"It's an address to a muggle hospital," Sirius said, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

"And? What does that mean?" Kelly snapped out.

Sirius clenched his fist, scrunching up the letter, a dark expression on his face. "It means I'm going there."

"You think my sister is there?" Kelly asked, looking hopeful. "That's good, right?"

Sirius didn't answer, only stalked towards the door, Kelly following, rapidly throwing question after question at his tense back, none of which got an answer.

* * *

Sirius and Kelly rushed up to the reception desk at the muggle hospital they had gotten an address to. Sirius slapped his hand down on the desk to get the attention from the woman behind it. The receptionist, who was speaking into the phone, barely glanced at them before she turned back to her conversation:

"…Uhu…no, honey, I promise, he's not cheating on you! Yes, of course I'm sure! It is Matt we're talking about…yes…uhu…"

"Hey!" Sirius snapped, and angrily grabbed the phone from the startled receptionist and hung up."

"Excuse me," the female receptionist said angrily. "I was talking – "

" – During working hours," Kelly cut in. "I wonder what your boss would say about that."

The woman flushed. "Now, listen here – "

"No, you listen!" Sirius snapped. "I've had a very bad week, and you do not want to make it worse." Steely grey eyes stared into the receptionist's own and she swallowed, perhaps sensing the danger in those depths.

"Alright." She put on a slightly too bright smile. "What can I do for you?"

"We're looking for my sister," Kelly said before Sirius could get a word in. "Brown hair, brown eyes, nineteen years old, around 5'7… Her name is Mandy Walker. Is she here?"

The receptionist rolled her eyes. "Look, a lot of people come through here. I don't have time to – "

" – Do your job?" A voice cut in and the female receptionist flushed again, turning around to face a rather handsome man in a doctor's coat.

"Dr. Reilly," the receptionist said, a simpering smile on her face. "I have things under control here, you don't have to – "

" – I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," the doctor turned to Kelly and Sirius smoothly, ignoring the receptionist completely. "My name is Dr. Thomas Reilly, and I think I may be treating the woman you're describing. A Jane Doe, brought in a few hours ago?"

"Jane?" Sirius repeated in confusion. "We just told you, her name is Man – ow!" Kelly had elbowed him.

"It's a placeholder name for an unknown person, dumbass," Kelly snapped, before she turned to the doctor with an apologetic smile. "Could we see her? Check for ourselves?"

"Of course. This way," Dr. Reilly said and walked quickly down the corridor. Kelly and Sirius hastily followed him.

Finally, after many twist and turns, they came to a stop in front of a hospital room. "I hope this is the person you're looking for," Dr. Reilly said, smiling at them kindly, turning the handle of the door and stepping inside.

Kelly and Sirius stumbled into the room, both closing their eyes in relief as they recognized the woman lying unconscious in the bed. "Thank Merlin," Sirius muttered, walking over and carefully moving away a few strands of hair from her face, frowning as he took in the deep scratches, bandages and swelling covering her skin.

"What's wrong with her, exactly?" Kelly asked Dr. Reilly.

"No internal bleeding, luckily enough," the doctor said in an attempt to soothe the obviously distressed young woman. "But she has a few broken bones and some heavy cuts and bruising and the fact that she hasn't woken up yet is disconcerting. I wouldn't worry until another day or so has passed, though."

Sirius only wished the doctor – albeit well-meaning – would shut up and leave, so he could take Mandy to some _real _doctors – healers. They'd be able to fix her up in no time, he told himself.

"You said you're her sister?" Dr. Reilly asked Kelly, who nodded shakily.

"Yes."

"Could you come with me to fill out some paperwork? I'd understand if you'd rather stay here…"

Kelly shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Let's just get it over with."

The moment the two left, Sirius reached for his wand in order to apparate himself and Mandy to St. Mungo's, damn the consequences of them just disappearing from the muggle hospital. However, he didn't find it, and Sirius let out an ugly curse when he realised he had forgot it in his and Mandy's apartment in his hurry to get here.

Closing his eyes, Sirius took a deep breath to calm himself down. "You're going to be alright," he told his girlfriend's still form. "I promised I would protect you, and I mean that. You're safe now. There's nothing to be afraid of here." He swallowed to hold back his tears. "It's okay to wake up." He grabbed one of her limp hands. "You have to wake up. Please, wake up."

As if hearing him speak, Mandy suddenly began to stir, and Sirius' let out a hopeful gasp as brown eyes flew open, staring straight at him. "Mandy?" She blinked; once, twice. "Mandy? Can you hear me?" Sirius clutched her hands tightly, and Mandy swallowed.

"I - what..."

"You've been in an accident," Sirius said, hurriedly explaining, extremely relieved Mandy was awake. "Voldemort...some Death Eaters took you..." But his relief turned to horror and all colour drained from his face at her next words:

"What..." Mandy's face was filled with pain, fear and utter confusion. "Who are you?"

* * *

Dr. Reilly sighed as he closed the door leading to Mandy's room behind him, and turned to look at the two equally pale-faced people standing outside, waiting, after he had insisted they leave while he examined Mandy after she awoke.

"Well?" Sirius demanded to know. "What's wrong with her? Why doesn't she remember me?"

"I have examined miss Walker again, now that she's awake," Dr. Reilly began. "She does seem to have some minor nerve-damage and her memory loss - "

" - She'll be fine, right?" Sirius interrupted before he could continue. "She just needs to rest, and she'll be okay?"

"Why don't you sit down," Dr. Reilly suggested kindly, gesturing at some empty chairs standing in the corridor. Kelly nodded, quickly sinking down in one, but Sirius only crossed his arms.

"I'd rather stand, thank you."

"Very well," Dr. Reilly said. "It seems miss Walker suffers from memory loss. To be more specific, it seems to be a form of psychogenic amnesia."

"In English, please," Sirius snapped. "What does that mean?"

"In short, it means miss Walker has lost the memory of who she is; her identity; her past. She will be able to form new memories without any sort of trouble, as well as perform everyday tasks. Some patients who suffer from this have been known to also lose basic semantic knowledge such as reading and writing, but that is not the case here, which is lucky. She will be able to function normally."

Sirius was pale. She didn't remember him? Their relationship? Did she remember being a witch?

"How long will it take to recover her memory?" Kelly asked quietly.

"It is difficult to say because it varies," Dr. Reilly said. "In miss Walker case, I would say her memory-loss is situation-specific. It's a type of dissociative amnesia caused by severe post-traumatic-stress, which isn't strange at all considering it is clear miss Walker's injuries are not due to an accident, but rather abuse of some kind. If I didn't know better..." Dr. Reilly trailed off.

"What?" Sirius asked. "What were you going to say?"

"If I didn't know better, I would say someone has been torturing her," Dr. Reilly finally said. "Her injuries...well, whoever did this to her knew what they were doing. There's no permanent physical damage, no internal bleeding... The damage done to her wasn't meant to kill – only to cause her horrible pain at the time."

Sirius clenched his fists. "And what about her memory? You never said how long it would take to recover."

"Like I said, it is impossible to say. Some never recover fully, some do, but therapy and various relaxation techniques are known to help," Dr. Reilly said as he saw the expressions on Sirius' and Kelly's faces. "Listen, miss Walker's memories are still there, still inside her mind somewhere, just locked away. Even if she never remembers everything, it is likely that with time, at least pieces of it will return. Potential triggers are situations, people, places, things from her past...or things related to what happened to her, though I wouldn't recommend exposing her to that on purpose, at least not yet."

"Thank you, doctor," Kelly said quietly, standing up, though Sirius' only glared.

"Why are you thanking him? He hasn't done anything to actually treat her!"

"Well, at least we know what's wrong with her!" Kelly said hotly.

"And that's so very helpful," Sirius snorted. "I want to know how to fix her!"

Dr. Reilly sighed. "I am sorry, but there is no miraculous magical cure for this – "

Sirius snorted. "How do you know?" He muttered under his breath.

" – I have told you all I can." Dr. Reilly patted Sirius' shoulder consolingly. "You are free to sit with her if you'd like, though she has fallen back asleep again." The doctor left, and Sirius and Kelly both hurried back inside Mandy's room, closing the door behind them.

"I'm going home for my wand, and then I'm taking Mandy to St. Mungo's," was the first thing Sirius said.

"St. Mungo's?" Kelly asked. "What is that?"

"Our hospital," Sirius answered. "You know, a place with real Healers - _better_ Healers - that can actually help her."

"Magic," Kelly stated in disgust. "You want to treat her with magic?"

"Yes," Sirius said.

"_Magic_ is what did this to her!" Kelly exclaimed, pointing a finger at her sleeping sister. "You were supposed to keep her safe! You failed. I'm not letting you anywhere near her!"

"I'm her boyfriend!" Sirius hissed. "You can't keep me away!"

"Try me!" Kelly snapped back. "I'm her_ sister, _and what I say goes. You're not her husband, or even her fiancé. Mandy is _my_ responsibility. Our parents signed over that right to me, dad because he doesn't care, and mum during one of her more sober moments. You don't have any say."

"Mandy belongs in the Wizarding World!" Sirius exclaimed.

"She doesn't _remember_ the Wizarding World!" Kelly retorted. "She doesn't remember magic, she doesn't remember being a witch, and she doesn't remember _you!"_ Sirius flinched. "You're a complete stranger to her, Sirius," Kelly said, a bit more calmly. "And yes, so am I, but at least I'm related to her. As soon as she is released from here, I'm taking her back with me to America."

Sirius' jaw dropped. "You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can, and I will," Kelly said, narrowing her eyes. "She will be a lot safer there than here, even you have to realise that."

Sirius gritted her teeth. "She may not remember the Wizarding World, but you heard what the doctor said. Being around familiar people and surroundings may jerk her memory back. There is nothing familiar for her in America."

"I know," Kelly said coolly. "Which may be for the best."

Sirius swallowed. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe it's better if Mandy _doesn't_ remember," Kelly answered. "She has a chance to live a normal life, _without _magic, can't you see that?"

"For Mandy, magic is normal!" Sirius exclaimed.

"She wasn't born in the Wizarding World, Sirius," Kelly said. "Until she was eleven, she was just like any other girl. I'm not saying Mandy losing her memory is a good thing, but now, she can start over and create a new life for herself, away from magic and away from danger."

"You can't just – "

" - She will be safe," Kelly interrupted. "Isn't that what you wanted? If you truly care about Mandy, about her welfare, then you won't fight me on this."

Sirius swallowed. "I can't...let her go."

Kelly raised an eyebrow. "Are you truly that selfish, Sirius?" She asked. "Leaving is what is best for Mandy, and deep down, I think you know that."

Sirius laughed hollowly. "And you, Kelly? What about you?"

Kelly frowned. "What about me?"

"Oh, stop acting!" Sirius exclaimed. "Stop pretending you're not just as selfish as you claim I am. This is not about what's best for Mandy, it's what's best for _you._ You resent me because you're not the number one person in Mandy's life anymore! You resent magic because you feel magic is to blame for your deteriorating relationship. Mandy losing her memory is the best thing that could have happened to you, never mind the fact that if Mandy had been fine, she would _never_ have decided to go with you."

Kelly's eyes grew cold. "You're right. My motives aren't entirely unselfish, but your point is moot, because it _doesn't matter._ What Mandy would have done if she did remember _doesn't matter,_ because she _doesn't _remember. Letting you take her, and expose her to your world, to a situation she doesn't understand, even if it means she may suddenly recall bits and pieces of her past, is not just stupid, it's outright _foolish. _Especially since your world is at _war. _Can you honestly say you would be able to take care of her, to protect her, to watch her 24/7? You didn't do a very good job before, even when Mandy _did_ have her memory – what makes you think you can do a better job this time?"

Sirius said nothing.

"You say Mandy would have decided to stay if she had been fine," Kelly continued. "But she's _not _fine. As such, deciding is up to me. And I've decided that we're leaving. Now, you can either accept that, or not, but either way you won't be able to change my mind. Considering the situation, leaving Britain is the best thing for her, Sirius, whether you like it or not."

* * *

Lucius and Severus nodded to each other respectfully as the crossed paths while entering and exiting respectively, the Dark Lord's throne room.

"Ah, Lucius, please, come in," Voldemort smiled as the blonde aristocrat stepped inside

Lucius Malfoy bowed deeply. "My Lord."

"I assume you had no trouble in leaving Walker at the hospital?"

"No, my Lord," Lucius answered. "I dropped her off in the emergency room, and then wiped the memories of the people there. They have no memory of who left her."

"And you sent the message to Black?"

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius said. "Less than a minute after receiving it, he and another woman left for the hospital."

"Excellent," Voldemort's eyes glinted. "That should teach Black not to cross me in the future. Well, the future he still has left, that is." He smirked in satisfaction. "I have given Snape my word that he, and no other, can dispose of Black whenever and however he wishes. Pass that message around, would you?"

"As you wish, master," Lucius bowed again.

"I have another task for you, Lucius," Voldemort continued. "A pensieve. I want one. I assume, with your wealth and connections, that acquiring one for my personal use will be simple enough for you?"

"It will be done, my Lord," Lucius answered.

"Excellent." When Lucius made no motion to leave, Voldemort frowned at him. "Well, what are you waiting for?" The Dark Lord snapped. "Get to it!"

Lucius hurriedly bowed and quickly left, Voldemort snorting in derision. "Minions these days..."

Leaning back in his 'throne,' the Dark Lord let out a slow breath. It was just a matter of time before the cartographer broke and began to really try to work out the remaining three locations, now that he had the man's family imprisoned. And though he had feared all the remaining secrets of the book had been lost when Regulus betrayed him and stole everything he had in regards to the book and its secrets, he had been wrong: it was all coming together. He had a way to get it all back. It was all accessible, still, though he hadn't remembered that until recently. Even if he couldn't recall it all at a moment's notice, the full memories of his research was still buried inside his mind.

With a pensieve in his possession, he would be able to review them, each and every single little detail from his research and the book without any trouble, even though he no longer had the book in his physical possession. He would be able go over everything again and again, finish his decoding and figure out all the book's secrets, at last.

His thin lips curled. Regulus had been a fool to think he could outsmart him. The Dark Lord had to admit though, that the youngest Black's stunt had set him back, especially since he hadn't thought to use a pensieve immediately. But it didn't matter – he had thought of it now, and he had all the time in the world to figure things out.

Closing his red eyes, Voldemort let a smile play across his lips.

Yes, he had all the time in the world...it wasn't as though anyone could ever hope to defeat him, other than Dumbledore, and he had had plenty of chances, without success. And once he found the power source, he would truly be unbeatable _and_ immortal.

* * *

Snape stood across the street from Spinner's End, the wind blowing in his dark hair. The Slytherin watched through the window as his father, Tobias, put the kettle on. Slowly, he walked across the street and stepped inside the house, banishing the snow from his boots with a flick from his wand that was hidden by his long sleeves.

Tobias stepped out of the kitchen and his eyes widened when he recognised him. "You!" The muggle exclaimed. "What are you doing here? I thought I'd seen the last of you once you graduated from that school of yours!"

"Nice to see you too, father," Severus drawled.

"Get out!" Tobias hissed. "You have no reason to be here! You don't live here anymore! And your mother has been dead for years, you know that."

"True," Severus mused, stepping further into the house, looking around with a grimace. "But I thought I'd move back in. I've got so many fond childhood memories of this place," he told Tobias sarcastically.

"I don't want you in my house," Tobias hissed.

"Well, that's just the thing," Severus said, fingering his wand slowly. "This is not your house. Not anymore, at least." He turned cold eyes upon his father, his wand pointing straight at him. _"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Tobias Snape fell dead to the floor, his eyes permanently frozen wide in shock and fear.

Slowly, Severus lowered his wand, inhaling deeply through his crooked nose. It was over. His father was dead. Nothing could hurt him anymore. He'd avenged the abuse done to his mother. The terror of his childhood was gone, at long last. Soon, Black, and then Potter, would follow. And then, he would have _her. _They could rebuild, he and Lily, in this house, together. So many times, they had played outside. The bad memories this building held would be erased by new ones, he told himself, of love, and laughter.

The Dark Lord had made him a promise. So far, he'd kept each and every one of them.

It was just a matter of time before he would have it all.

Taking another deep breath, Severus erased every trace of his own presence in the house, including fingerprints. Then, he levitated his father outside and dumped his body in the river, which was filled with blocks of frozen snow and ice-chunks. Another flick of his wand made it look like his father had gone for a walk, had slipped and fallen in – a drowning accident. A second flick erased all of his own footsteps in the snow, and then, he apparated away.

* * *

**9 ****January**

"Memory loss?" Lily echoed dumbly, staring at the miserable-looking Sirius, who was sitting with his head bowed in hers and James' living room.

"Yes. And since Kelly has decided to take Mandy back with her to the states, with nothing to connect her to her old life, it's unlikely she'll ever remember." Sirius bit his lip.

"And you're just going to let her?" James demanded to know. "This is Mandy we're talking about!"

"I know!" Sirius exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Don't you think I know that? But Kelly is her sister – I have no legal say."

"What about _illegal?"_ James said, earning himself an elbow from Lily.

"James!" The red-head hissed.

"What?" James exclaimed hotly. "Mandy is our friend, Lils, and sister or not, Kelly can't just decide to leave with her!"

"Well, what do you suggest we do?" Lily asked sarcastically. "Wipe Kelly's memory of ever having a sister and send her on her merry way, while we kidnap Mandy?"

"That's one idea," James said, only half-joking.

Lily rolled her eyes. "God, sometimes, you're just so...GAH! I don't even have a word for it."

"What am I going to do?" Sirius whispered heavily. "Mandy's...she's my life. I don't know what I'll do without her."

"Well, we'll just have to convince Kelly not to leave, then," James said. "Somehow."

Sirius' shoulders slumped. "It's no use, Prongs, I've tried. There's no changing her mind. It's over. Look, I have to go. Could you tell Buffy and Peter what has happened? I can't..." He swallowed. "I'm going to have to tell Lucan and Belinda and that's going to be bad enough."

"Of course," James said immediately. "What about Remus?"

Sirius just stared at him with cold eyes. "I don't really care what you tell _him."_ With heavy steps, he left the room.

Lily and James stared at each other. "Merlin, Lils," James whispered. "Everything's falling apart."

"It's been falling for awhile now, James," Lily said heavily, placing a hand against her stomach in a protective gesture she found herself doing more and more for everyday that passed.

"Then we'll just have to find away to rise up," James said determinately, placing his hand above hers, the slight swell beneath Lily's palm a reminder of what they were fighting for. "We're the marauders, Lily. You, me, Buffy, Remus, Sirius, Mandy, Peter..."

Lily snorted tiredly. "What does that even mean these days, James?"

"Everything," James muttered. "Marauders don't fail. We don't surrender. And we don't give up. And above all, we believe in good and in each other. We've just...temporarily lost that belief."

"And where will we find it?" Lily asked weakly.

"I don't know yet," James muttered.

* * *

"Sirius!" Belinda greeted him cheerfully. "What a surprise. Please, come in." The blonde gestured for Sirius to enter the modest, but nice looking, house that she and Lucan had moved into after their marriage.

"Is Lucan home?" Sirius asked, his hands in his pockets. He was not looking forward to this, not at all. Mandy and Lucan had been friends since their first year at Hogwarts. That Sirius now had to tell him that Mandy had been hurt - that she didn't remember him, or even magic...it was awful.

"Yes, he's in the kitchen," Belinda said, leading Sirius through the foyer and into the kitchen. "Lucan! Guess who's come to visit!"

Lucan Davis looked up from his place on the stove, checking on something boiling in a pot. "Sirius!" He exclaimed. "Good to see you! Is Mandy with you?"

"Umm...no," Sirius said. "Look, Lucan, I – "

" – She's not, huh?" Lucan continued, shaking his head ruefully. "Typical. I imagine work keeps her busy. In her last letter, she made it very clear how much she enjoys curse-breaker training."

"We were actually planning to visit as well," Belinda cut in. "But you beat us to it. We have some news, you see." She exchanged a happy look with Lucan.

"Yeah?" Sirius asked. "What is it?"

"I'm pregnant!" Belinda beamed at him and Lucan wrapped an arm around her.

"Congratulations," Sirius said weakly even as he felt his stomach plummeting. Merlin. How was he supposed to tell them about Mandy now?

"Thanks," Lucan was grinning widely. "We found out about a month ago, but we wanted to wait a bit before telling our friends. It takes awhile before it really hits you, you know?"

"I can understand that," Sirius said quietly, and finally, it seemed Belinda and Lucan something was wrong.

"You seem down," Belinda noted carefully. "Is something wrong?"

"You could say that," Sirius mumbled. Exhaling, he continued: "Look, the reason I came by...you may want to sit down for this."

Belinda and Lucan exchanged worried looks but dutifully sat down, their attention focused solely on Sirius' tired and drawn face. He swallowed. "A while ago, during Christmas, there was an attack on Hogsmeade..."

"Yes, we read about that," Lucan nodded, fists clenching as a feeling of dread rose in his chest.

Sirius licked his lips, even as Belinda gripped Lucan's hands in hers, her eyes filled with concern. "Mandy was there." Sirius finally continued. "And she was taken by the Death Eaters." The pot on the stove was boiling over, but neither Lucan nor Belinda seemed to notice: their eyes were wide and fixated on Sirius, neither of them sure what to say.

"What?" Lucan finally hissed. "But you've found her, right? She's okay?"

"Yes, we've found her. Only yesterday, actually."

Lucan and Belinda let out identical sighs of relief. "Thank Merlin," Belinda breathed. "Is she at St. Mungo's? Can we visit her?"

"She doesn't remember anything!" Sirius blurted out, not able to force himself to break it to them slowly. Belinda and Lucan's faces abruptly lost all colour.

"What do you mean, she doesn't remember?" Lucan's voice was deadly calm.

"Just that," Sirius said. "We found her in a muggle hospital – she's got something called psychogenic amnesia. She doesn't remember who she is or anything about her life. Her sister refuses to take her to St. Mungo's. She doesn't trust magic."

Lucan's lips pursed. "It doesn't surprise me. I know Kelly – I've met her once, while I was visiting America with Mandy during a summer. She's stubborn like hell, and not very comfortable with Mandy being a witch at all."

"She insists on taking Mandy back to America with her," Sirius said quietly, and Lucan's eyes closed.

"I can't blame her," he finally said after some thought. "And she'll probably be safer there. But...to not even try to heal her magically?"

"That's what I said, but she refuses to listen," Sirius muttered. "I don't know what to do."

Lucan laughed hollowly. "And I do? Bloody hell, Sirius. The only contact I've had with Mandy since Hogwarts are letters, and when we saw each other at my wedding. Why was she even in Hogsmeade on Christmas in the first place?"

Sirius' shoulders slumped. "We...well...someone...heard about the attack and called us to help."

Belinda and Lucan stared. "You're involved in the war, aren't you?" Belinda said quietly. "And not just because you're an Auror... There's that group of Dumbledore's...what's it called...the Order of...something. Are you and Mandy in it?"

The look Sirius gave her answered it all.

"Damn it!" Lucan swore, standing up. "I told Mandy not to get involved. I told her it would end badly." Just as it seemed he was about to work himself into a full rant, all air seemed to leave him and he sank back onto the kitchen chair. "I think you should leave, Sirius," Lucan finally said, voice tired.

Sirius only nodded and slowly turned to leave the room.

"Mandy has always been stubborn," Lucan added and Sirius paused in the doorway. "No one forced her to fight. It was her choice. But Mandy's my best friend and to hear she's as good as gone...it's hard. But I'm not mad at you. I don't blame you."

"That doesn't keep me from blaming myself," Sirius mumbled silently, and before Lucan or Belinda could say anything else, he fled.

* * *

**14 January**

"Kelly, wait!" Sirius shouted, and Kelly abruptly stopped, turning around to look at Sirius tiredly.

"Sirius...our flight leaves in less than fifteen minutes."

Sirius glanced down at Mandy, who was sitting in a wheelchair and giving him a curious glance. "I know," he said. "I just...I can't just let you leave."

Kelly let out a noise of frustration. "Sirius, we've been over this!"

"I'm not going to try and convince you to stay," Sirius hurriedly corrected. "I just meant...I can't just let you leave without..."

"Saying goodbye?" Kelly filled in.

"Sort of. I...I have a couple of things for Mandy," Sirius said, pulling out the memory cube she had gotten from James on her birthday, as well as the turquoise necklace he had given her. "I...just want her to have these. As a...well, I guess 'memory' is the wrong word, considering, but..." He bit his lip and Kelly's look softened.

"I get it," she said, and took the cube and necklace from Sirius. "But I won't let her have this until she's better," she held up the cube. "I know what it is and what it does, and while viewing memories of her past might help her eventually, it would only be confusing right now. She can have the necklace though," Kelly added, quickly fastening it around Mandy's neck.

The brunette immediately grasped the turquoise pendant in her hand, cocking her head to the side, feeling sudden warmth spread through her entire body. Since waking up with no memories in the hospital, she had felt nothing but cold, even when the woman who introduced herself as her sister discharged her and began to tell her things from her childhood.

But this necklace...it made her feel warm. And she was sure what she was feeling was somehow connected to the dark-haired, sorrowful man standing beside them now – he made her feel strange. Strange but safe. Loved. Something was nagging at her mind, but just like everything else, it was out of her reach.

"Look, Sirius," Kelly sighed. "I don't think it's a secret that I don't like you a lot, and that feeling is mutual, I'm sure."

Sirius snorted.

"But we both care about Mandy, and I understand that us leaving must be extremely difficult for you," Kelly continued. Her lips quirked. "I can honestly say I have no idea of what your magic is capable of, but I have no doubts there are ways you could have used to take Mandy and gotten me out of your life. That you haven't says a lot about you. I appreciate that, and I understand what you're sacrificing, and I'm grateful that you realise that this is what Mandy needs."

Sirius swallowed. "You two should probably leave," he said hoarsely. "Or you'll miss your flight."

Kelly nodded. "Goodbye, Sirius." Kelly walked away, pushing Mandy's wheelchair ahead of her, towards the gate.

"Who was that man?" Sirius heard Mandy ask Kelly, her voice a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

"Nobody," Kelly answered, and Sirius inhaled sharply. She was right. Without Mandy, he was nothing. His heart broke a little more when Mandy turned in her wheelchair to look back at him, one of her hands still clasped around the pendant tightly.

The two sisters turned a corner, and then, they were gone.

* * *

_**Published: **__14/07 -11_

* * *

**Trivia**

- We know from _Deathly Hallows_ that Severus' parents often argued, and it is hinted that his father, Tobias, doesn't like magic – or anything, much. From this, it is not completely unlikely to draw the conclusion that Tobias may have been abusive. Since we see Snape live at his childhood home in 1996 (_Half-Blood Prince_), this chapter shows a version of how that might have come to happen.  
- Mandy's fate: Bellatrix' torture of Mandy with _Crucio _was extensive enough to cause memory-loss, but not extensive enough to cause permanent insanity or death. Will she appear again? Perhaps, perhaps not... Also, all I know about psychogenic amnesia comes from various TV-shows and Wikipedia, so if I got anything wrong, I apologize.  
- - The memory cube and the turquoise necklace Sirius gives Mandy were mentioned in Road of Carnage chapter 29, along with a more detailed description.


	3. Prophecy

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**16 January**

"Wormtail." Voldemort's voice was smooth like velvet when Peter stepped inside the cell that had previously housed Mandy. There were dried patches of blood around the chair in the middle of the room. The ropes that had tied her to it were lying in a heap on the floor. The Dark Lord's eyes were closed in contentment. "What can I do for you?"

Peter gulped, looking around the cell with nervous, darting eyes. "W-why did you hurt Mandy like that?"

Voldemort opened one eye, glancing at Peter. "I? I did nothing. What happened to your friend was all Bellatrix' work. You know that."

"B-but didn't you order it to happen?" Peter asked. "I-I mean...Bellatrix w-wouldn't dare to do anything w-without your permission, my Lord? Right?"

"That is true." The Dark Lord opened his eyes fully and turned to look at Peter. "Tell me, Peter, who am I?"

Confused, Peter answered: "Y-you are the Dark Lord, master."

"Yes. I am. How, exactly, do you think I came by that title? By serving my prisoners tea and crumpets?"

Peter flinched. "O-of course not, my Lord. But...y-you promised you wouldn't hurt my friends. W-when I joined you. A-and when I asked, y-you promised you wouldn't hurt her."

"Did I?" Voldemort asked, bored. "My memory must be faulty, for I simply cannot recall any such promise. I said _you_ wouldn't be forced to hurt them – and I said if they attacked me, I would strike back."

"But Mandy did nothing to you!"

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "She is a mudblood! And she was there, in Hogsmeade, fighting with the Order. I've killed people for less."

"But she doesn't remember anything!" Peter exclaimed.

"She's alive, is she not?" The Dark Lord said shortly. "I never promised not to hurt her – I promised not to _kill _her. And I didn't. I suggest you take what you can get, Wormtail: my patience is not limitless. This cell is currently lacking an occupant, but it can easily be filled again." The look Voldemort gave Peter spoke volumes and the marauder gulped.

"B-but – "

" – _CRUCIO!"_

Peter fell to the dirty cell-floor, screaming. Was this what Mandy had felt?

"I have been very lenient with you so far, Pettigrew, because I've seen your potential. But you have not yet proved yourself to my satisfaction. If you continue with this insolence, you'll find that you are very expendable. A defiant servant is nothing to me and you've crossed several lines already."

Peter continued to scream as the Cruciatus curse travelled through his body, attacking his nerves, and making him lose control of his bladder. Finally, the pain subsided when the Dark Lord lifted the curse, his lips curled in disgust.

"I recruited you for a reason, Pettigrew," Voldemort said, voice low and dangerous. "And it is best for you if you begin to live up to my expectations, or a round of 'Crucio' will be the least of your worries."

He left the cell, leaving Peter curled up on the floor, sobbing in pain and humiliation. This was not what he had imagined when he joined the Dark Lord: he had thought he'd be someone worthy of notice, someone with power that people would look up to. He had though the Dark Lord would value him and his opinion the way his friends didn't. Now, however, he realised how wrong he'd been. He was not better off, not at all.

Still sobbing, Peter got to his feet on trembling legs, pants wet with his own urine. From now on, he would keep his head down and do whatever the Dark Lord asked, without any questions. He would be unfailingly loyal. He would make himself worthy of trust, show him how responsible and how indispensable he could really be. Perhaps, then, he would finally get the respect and honour he deserved.

And if not...well, if not, he would still be loyal. All the Death Eaters had heard what had happened to Regulus Black when he crossed the Dark Lord, and he'd been one of his favourites. Imagine, then, what he'd do to someone like him. No, Peter wasn't stupid, but he was afraid: if he so much as thought of betrayal, he was certain the Dark Lord would know. It was far too late for regrets. He had joined the Dark Lord, and with the Dark Lord he would stay. To do anything else would be suicide.

* * *

**19 January**

"Lily?" James knocked on the bedroom door. "Are you done in there? We're supposed to be at Buffy's in, say..." he glanced at his wristwatch theatrically, even though Lily couldn't see him, "...oh, would you look at that! We're late! We were supposed to be there fifteen minutes ago."

"Just give me a second." Lily's voice sounded muffled through the wooden door.

James sighed. "What's taking you so long anyway? Aren't you supposed to be miss punctuality?"

"Not today."

"_Women,"_ James mouthed to himself. "I'm coming in!"

He twisted the handle, ignoring Lily's voice of protested "No, don't!" and stepped inside, his jaw falling when he saw Lily standing, dressed in only bra and panties, in front of the full length mirror.

"You're not even dressed!"

Lily threw him a half-hearted glare. "I noticed. I can't decide what to wear."

James pinched his nose. Women, indeed. Some of the stories about wardrobe disasters told from Remus about Buffy, and Sirius about Mandy (he inwardly winched), had made him shiver. That Lily wasn't like those two when it came to clothes was something James never failed to be smug about, to Remus and Sirius' annoyance. But it looked like he'd been wrong.

"What's wrong with this one?" He held up a green dress that had been carelessly discarded on the bedroom floor, along with, he noted, four pair of pants, two skirts and what seemed to be an endless supply of various tops and sweaters.

Lily almost hissed at him. "Put it away! It doesn't fit right."

James' scrunched up his eyebrows even as an evil feeling of foreboding began to rise in his chest. "Doesn't...fit right?" He asked slowly, wishing he had never stepped in to the room, which was beginning to feel like a minefield about to explode at anytime. "And the other clothes? Don't they _fit right_ either?"

The look Lily threw him spoke more than a thousand words. James coughed uncomfortably. "Well, some of them must, right? I mean, it's not like you've become fat overnight."

Lily's lips began to tremble and James flinched. "But I am," Lily whispered. "I'm fat, James. Look at me!"

James looked her up and down, not seeing a problem. "I'm looking. You're beautiful. What am I supposed to see?"

Lily stomped her foot. "Look. At. Me." She repeated slowly, gesturing down at her stomach. James squinted his eyes at her waist. And then, he saw it. The slight swell of her stomach, her abdomen sticking out slightly. Her waistline wasn't quite as pronounced as before.

James' eyebrows rose. "You're showing." He was aware that he was probably wearing a stupid, silly little grin on his face right now, but he didn't care. Lily was showing. Really showing – he wasn't just able to _feel _the small bulge anymore, he could actually _see _it. A baby... _Their _baby was really in there!

Unfortunately, Lily took his smile the wrong way, and the next second, James was hit in the face with a skirt. "It's not funny!" The red-head hissed, irate.

"I'm not laughing!" James yelped, pulling the skirt off. "Lils...honestly, you're _pregnant._ And you're not showing that much. There is no way you've outgrown all of these clothes overnight, pregnant or not."

Lily sighed, all the fight going out of her. "Coming into them is not the problem. They fit okay. I just...I've gotten accustomed to_ looking _a certain way while I'm in them, and I _don't_ anymore!" She picked up the green dress from the floor. "This, for example, is one of my favourites. I know I look good in it. But when I put it on tonight... I just looked strange, because there's a bump here – " she pointed at her waist with an annoyed glare, "that wasn't there before. I look _bloated."_

"Lils..." James walked forward and put her arm around her. "Don't blow up now, alright, but I think that's only in your mind. No one else will notice, _I swear. _It took me ages to notice, and you're in nothing but your underwear."

"Well, you're not exactly the sharpest quill in the box, are you?" Lily muttered, sniffing slightly. "It's awful, James!" She exclaimed. "I throw up all the time, and my breasts hurt, and I think they're _bigger _– " James flushed slightly. "And I'm tired and moody and I constantly need to _pee!"_

"Lils..." James tried not to laugh, he really did, but a chuckle still escaped him. "You knew that would happen."

"It doesn't make it easier," Lily muttered, but without bite. She nibbled on her lip uncertainly. "Are you sure it's not noticeable?"

"I'm sure," James promised.

Lily smiled weakly. "I'm being pretty stupid, aren't I?"

James wisely kept his mouth shut, and just hugged her.

* * *

"Happy birthday," Lily greeted, giving Buffy a hug as the Slayer opened the door to hers and Remus' cottage.

Buffy smiled weakly. "Thanks. Though I'm not sure what's so happy about it. You look great though."

Lily, having finally decided on a rather loose, beige tunic, practically beamed at the Slayer and inwardly, James exhaled a loud sigh of relief as they stepped inside. "Has Padfoot showed up?" He asked and Buffy shook her head while leading the two Potters into the living room.

"No. And to be honest, I don't expect him to."

"He's got to come out from his apartment sometime, right?" Lily asked logically. "Hi, Remus! Hi, Peter!"

"Hi," the two marauders greeted from their place by the living room table, playing cards.

"Do you think we should head over to his place?" Peter asked, biting his lip in question.

"I think what Sirius needs right now is some time and space," James said firmly. "He'll come out when he's ready."

"I don't know, Prongs," Remus shook his head. "If we leave it up to him, I don't think he'll ever be ready. He'll bury himself in grief."

James slumped down in a chair beside him, Buffy and Lily taking the two chairs opposite. "True enough," he muttered.

"We haven't seen him since Mandy left England and that was a week ago. Maybe we should go over there later - just to check up on him?" Lily said. "What are we playing?"

Remus was shuffling the cards, his and Peter's game of War finished, with Remus emerging as the winner. "Whatever you want, I guess. As for visiting Sirius...I'm pretty certain I'm the last person he'd want to see at the moment."

"Go fish?" Peter suggested from his place at the head of the table. "And Sirius can't stay mad at you forever, Moony. He must realise what happened to Mandy isn't your fault, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

"Well, logic has never been Sirius' strong suit," Buffy pointed out. "And right now, I imagine he's too stuck in mourning to think straight."

"But think of it this way: a visit from Remus is probably going to make him so mad it just might snap him out of it," James said, falsely cheerful.

"Oh, great, throw me to the wolves, why don't you?" Remus muttered while dealing out the cards. "Or the dogs. Dog. Whatever. Anyway, I don't think a visit from me is going to help. Unless he kills me during it." He cocked his head. "That might actually make him feel better."

"No one is killing you," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. "Lily, have you got any threes?"

"Go fish," the red-head answered. "James, any aces?"

Cursing, James threw his wife two cards. "How did you know that?"

Lily shrugged. "Intuition? Remus, any aces?"

Remus' shoulders slumped, throwing Lily a card, and the red-head grinned victoriously, putting down all four aces on the table.

"You have one book already?" Peter moaned.

"Buffy, any twos?"

"Go fish," Buffy answered.

An hour later, and two games of 'Go Fish' (Lily winning both times), the five friends were extremely tired of the game. "I can't believe we're playing 'Go fish' on my birthday," Buffy muttered. "That's not just depressing – it's downright sad."

"Well, perhaps it's time for cake, then? Or opening your gifts?" Remus suggested and Buffy shrugged.

"I guess. It's just that celebrating my birthday right now feel wrong. Celebrating _anything _feels wrong."

"But we can't stop living either," James said, looking around his friends. "We can't allow ourselves to fall into depression."

Lily raised her glass of butterbeer. "To Mandy," she said solemnly. "One of the kindest people I've ever met."

"One of the most beautiful – inside and out," Buffy said lifting her glass.

"And one of the most intelligent," Peter nodded, raising his own.

"One of the most open-hearted and open-minded," James said as his own tribute to the brilliant Ravenclaw, holding up his glass and knocking it against the other three's.

"And even if we are not a part of her memory," Remus said after a moment's thought. "Let her always be a part of ours."

"And hope that someday, she'll remember us, and return," Buffy finished quietly after their toast, wishing more than ever there was no need for one.

"Amen," James muttered.

* * *

**30 January**

"Are you sure about this?" James asked hesitantly. "Maybe we should leave Sirius alone."

Lily, dressed in one of James' shirts which was so large on her it easily hid the swell of her stomach, threw her husband a glare. "He can't mope around forever. And if he dares to not be happy about this, I will kick his arse."

James sighed. While he hoped Lily was right – that telling Sirius about the pregnancy would cheer him up – he was also scared it would backfire on them. He knew Sirius, and knew how stubborn he could be about things. He had always had a rather unpredictable temper, and usually, time was the only thing that could get him to calm down.

Resolutely, Lily knocked on the door to Sirius' apartment. "Sirius! Sirius!" She shouted. "I know you're in there! It's me, Lily! And James! Let us in! We're not leaving until you open this door!"

The door flew open and Sirius stood there, eyes bloodshot and his breath smelling strongly of alcohol. "I've opened. Now leave," he said, moving to slam the door shut, but Lily's foot was in the way.

"I don't think so," the red-head said, forcing her way past Sirius and into the flat. James threw him an apologetic look, and then followed. He coughed as he looked around the room in disbelief. Empty and half-drunken bottles were everywhere, along with half-eaten plates with food. "Alright, the alcohol has got to go," Lily said, and began to banish the bottles – uncaring of their contents. "James, you'll do the dishes."

Sirius stared at them both in disbelief. "You can't just crash my apartment and start messing about with my stuff!"

"This 'stuff' as you call it is going to make you sick," James said. "Sorry, Pads, but this place is a mess. And so are you."

"I'm fine," Sirius said through gritted teeth.

James looked him up and down with an eyebrow raised in doubt, from his bare feet to his boxers and unwashed t-shirt, unshaven face and limp hair. "I can see that," he said, with a sarcastic snort. "Merlin, Padfoot, I get that you're upset, but you can't go on like this."

Sirius glared. "I'll be in my bed. When you get tired of cleaning, feel free to leave." He moved towards the bedroom, but was stopped by Lily, her wand outstretch and pointing at him.

"No," Lily said sternly. "You are going nowhere except the bathroom. And don't come out until after you've showered, shaved and changed clothes."

Sirius laughed hollowly. "You can't boss me around, Lily."

Lily only tapped a foot impatiently, and Sirius rolled his eyes, before trying to move around her. A stinging charm quickly made him change his mind. "BATHROOM!" Lily repeated. Half-snarling, Sirius did as she said. Once the bathroom-door closed behind him, Lily's firm expression fell and she threw James a helpless look. "What are we going to do?" She asked.

"What we_ are_ doing," James said grimly. "After that... I don't know, Lils. The only one who can do anything is Sirius himself."

Lily sighed.

* * *

An exhausting hour later, Lily and James were finally done cleaning Sirius' apartment. James threw Lily a worried look when he saw the utter exhaustion on her face. "You look a bit ill. Maybe you should sit down."

Lily smiled weakly at him. "I've just got a headache. And I'm a bit dizzy."

"I repeat – maybe you should sit down," James said. "I'll check on Sirius."

Lily nodded, sinking down in the sofa gratefully, while James entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. His shoulders slumped at the sight: Sirius was sitting on the toilet-lid, clearly having made no move to do any of the things Lily told him to.

"Pads…" James sank down to the floor, back against the door. "Come on, mate."

Sirius threw him a hopeless look. "Why?" He asked hoarsely. "What's the point? Mandy is - " His voice broke.

"I know," James muttered. "She was my friend too."

"I expect her to be on the other side of the bed when I wake up, you know?" Sirius whispered. "But she's not."

James bit his lip. "Do you want me and Lily to leave? You're right: we shouldn't have come crashing in like this - it was rude."

Sirius snorted. "Since when have the marauders ever cared about manners?"

"Point," James cocked his head to the side. "So, how about that shower and shave, huh? For Lily's sake? I think she near had a heart-attack when she saw you: she's never seen you any less then perfectly groomed."

Sirius shook his head. "I'll do it later. Maybe."

Knowing that was the best he was going to get right now, James only nodded. "Alright. How about some tea then?"

"Fine," Sirius agreed, rising to his feet.

A few minutes later, the three friends were sitting around the table, hot cups of tea in front of them, but none of them making a move to drink.

"Umm...James and I have some news," Lily said hesitantly, glancing up at Sirius.

"Yeah?" Sirius asked hoarsely.

"Yes..." The red-head threw James a quick look. "We're...James and I...we're having a baby."

Sirius' head flew up and James smiled. Maybe Lily had been right. "We wanted you to be the first to know," he said. "And we want you to be the Godfather."

For a long time, Sirius only stared. And then, his jaw clenched. "You're pregnant?" He asked Lily through gritted teeth, and Lily smiled, nodding at him.

"Yes."

"Are you _insane?"_ Sirius asked slowly and Lily flinched even as James' eyes widened.

"Padfoot..." he began slowly.

"No," Sirius said, standing up, accidentally knocking over his tea. "No. I don't believe this. I can't understand you people! You're bringing a_ baby _into this world? Lucan and Belinda are having one too, but at least they're not in the Order. But you and Lily _are!_ Have you completely lost your minds? And ask me to be Godfather? You're off your rockers!"

James glared at Sirius, wrapping a protective arm around Lily, whose eyes were slowly filling with tears. "That's enough," he said, voice dangerously low. "I understand you're upset over Mandy, but you have no right to act like this!"

"Well, what do you want me to say? _Congratulations?"_ Sirius laughed hollowly. "I ruin everything I touch, Prongs! If you make me Godfather of that kid...if you bring that kid into this sort of life...there's _nothing_ to be happy about!"

Lily was sobbing now and James' eyes were cold as ice as he stared at his friend. "We came here to cheer you up – "

" – Good job," Sirius said in distain.

" – But I can see there's no reasoning with you. In fact, I don't see why we should bother with you at all while you're like this. I care that you're hurting, I do, but don't you_ dare _take it out on Lily, or our baby. _Snap out of it,_ Sirius, or Mandy won't be the only person leaving you." With that, James left, leading Lily out of the apartment, the door slamming behind them with a loud bang.

Sirius sank back down on his chair, his entire body trembling.

* * *

**9 February**

It was a cold, wet night in February and Severus scowled deeply into his drink. He didn't particularly like the Hog's Head, but he didn't feel like spending the night alone. He'd originally planned to summon Dorcas, but had then reconsidered: the Order member would doubtlessly talk his ear off first about morale and doing the right thing before falling into bed with him... And tonight, he was not in the mood for a lecture, or small talk for that matter, only mindless sex.

And since the Hog's Head was a place for both respectable and not-so-respectable people to come to get drunk, it was the perfect spot to pick up a one-night-stand. Unfortunately, no desirable prospects had stepped inside as of yet, unless one favoured a hag or someone of the male gender, neither of which suited Severus' tastes.

Just as Severus was about to give up, the door to the pub opened and Albus Dumbledore stepped in, looking around the room. Severus' eyes rose to his hairline. He'd never imagined the illustrious Headmaster of Hogwarts would ever deign himself to visit this place: the Three Broomsticks seemed to be more his style.

To his surprise, Dumbledore walked up to speak to the barman and Severus cocked his head, straining to hear the conversation.

"...Hello, Abe. I was supposed to meet a Sybill Trelawney here for an interview for the Divination post at Hogwarts...?"

The barman snorted. "Oh, her. She's even barmier than you – kept insisting on reading my fortune. I sent her upstairs."

Severus racked his head to try and remember all the people passing through the bar in the last ten minutes or so, and then it hit him: a woman, wearing huge glasses and draped in colourful shawls, chains, beads and various showy ornaments. It had to be her. He inwardly snorted. That she was a true seer or anyone worthy of a Hogwarts post was just as unlikely as a disarming charm offing the Dark Lord.

* * *

Dumbledore tried to surreptitiously glance at his watch, while at the same time pretend to pay attention to the ramblings of Sybill Trelawney. This interview – which was more like listening to a long, boring biography – had gone on for forty minutes already and the woman showed no indication she was about to stop talking. Sybill had not even given him an opportunity to speak, or so much as open his mouth for longer than a second.

"…I told her that she would die a most gruesome horrible death, but of course she did not believe me and threw me out with my head first!" Sybill sniffed. "It is _unbelievable _how short minded some people can be these days, don't you agree Headmaster?"

Dumbledore nodded and forced up a smile. He didn't want to be rude, but if he had to sit here much longer, it would mean he would soon go mad – well, more mad than he already was, of course.

"…She got what she deserved: only a few days later she was found dead! Oh, her corpse was most mutilated indeed. And then there was this incident when I was three years old – I was a most talented child, you see, and I already had the gift of sight – this my parents noticed with pride when I accurately predicted a thief was about to sneak into our basement during one of my meditations - "

Dumbledore sighed deeply.

* * *

Severus frowned as he let his eyes roam over the clock hanging over the bar. It had been over forty minutes since Dumbledore went up the stairs and he wondered what was taking the man so long. It couldn't possibly take that much time for him to realise the woman was a total fraud – not even Dumbledore was that stupid. Unless there was something more going on...

Mind made up, Severus quickly got up from his chair and made his way up the stairs. In case Sybill Trelawney was someone of note, Severus wanted to be the one to find out and report it to the Dark Lord: it never hurt to be on his good side.

He did not notice that the barman's sharp blue eyes followed his every step.

* * *

" – And then she said that she had never seen such impressive skill before, not even from my great-great-grandmother, Cassandra Trelawney. You have heard of Cassandra, I presume?"

" – Miss Trelawney," Dumbledore finally managed to interrupt, in what he hoped was a sincere and calm voice. "I am afraid I will have to cut our interview here, as I have other matters to attend to. Unfortunately, I do not think you are what I seek in a Divination professor. In fact, I am not sure I will let the subject continue at all – "

" – Oh, but Headmaster Dumbledore, sir!" Trelawney exclaimed with wide eyes. "You must! And I have not yet told you of how I used my incredible foresight to rescue the Wales citizens from the giant flesh eating monster residing in Loch Ness!"

Dumbledore coughed and stood up, Trelawney quickly doing the same.

"I am truly sorry, but I really do have to leave. And Loch Ness is a lake in Scotland, not Wales, and I happen to know Nessie, the so-called 'monster' residing in the lake, is a vegetarian – quite unusual for a Kelpie – and very fond of apples." Trelawney stood up as well, presumably to stop him from leaving, but then, her eyes glazed over and she spoke, in a hoarse, mystified voice:

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..."_

Dumbledore, who had began to turn to leave, spun back to Trelawney so quickly, the mere eye could not have seen it, his purple robes swivelling behind him. "What did you say?" He hissed in a mere whisper, his blue eyes widening in shock behind his half-moon glasses. Trelawney didn't react at all to his question – she didn't even seem to have noticed – but instead continued to speak:

"…_born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."_

If Dumbledore hadn't been so utterly focused on the seer, perhaps he would have heard the raised voices outside the door, but as it was, they barely registered: his attention was solely caught on the misty-eyed Sybill Trelawney, his breath caught in his throat.

"_and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not __… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…__ the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."_

For a second, Dumbledore thought she was done, but then, she continued with a second part to the prophecy – and to Dumbledore, there was no doubt it was one – her voice just as rough and eerie as before:

"_The one with the power to guide the lightning child approaches… born to those who have thrice hoped for him, meant to unite the land of Albion … and chance will mark him as a defender, but he will first fall to power the Dark Lord knows well … and he must wake at the hand of his lover for the land will not live if he doesn't survive… the one with the power to guide the lightning child is meant to unite the land of Albion…" _

For yet another short moment, Sybill paused, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. Then, a third part to the prophecy fell from her lips, her voice gaining new strength and a near ethereal conviction:

"_The one with the power to shape the roads of destiny approaches… born to those who have thrice denied her, called as the Chosen One… and fate will mark her as its warrior, but she will fall to a power unknown … and then she must rise at the hand of her other for no one shall live if she doesn't survive… the one with the power to shape the roads of destiny has been called as the Chosen One…"_

A chill went through the Headmaster as Trelawney finally fell silent, her head falling limply down towards her chest, but then it snapped up again, and the glassy look in her eyes disappeared.

"I am sorry, Headmaster, I must have nodded off - how rude of me..." She sounded quite confused. "I will not burden you any longer, I suppose," she started to walk towards the door, completely obvious to Dumbledore gaping mouth and dumbstruck expression.

However, just as she was about to reach for the handle, the door flew open, revealing Aberforth, who was holding – was that Severus Snape? – by the neck. Trelawney gasped in shock.

"Ab – what is the meaning of this?" Dumbledore demanded to know, standing up.

"I found him eavesdropping on your conversation – caught him in the act, I did," Aberforth said in a gruff voice, hurling Snape into the room.

"I-I was not!" Snape protested even as a shiver of fear travelled down Dumbledore's spine: how much had he heard? "I swear!"

Dumbledore looked down into coal-black, defiant eyes and ever so carefully, he began to prod him with legilimency. He had to know what Severus had heard - he could not be allowed to tell the Dark Lord...

Unfortunately, it seemed Snape had picked up Occlumency somewhere, for he immediately gasped, and as the young man's mental walls were slammed up, Dumbledore found himself thrown out of his mind.

His former student snarled dangerously, glaring at a spot slightly below the Headmaster's nose, knowing better than to look directly into his eyes after the man's attempt to look into his mind. "How dare you?" Snape was clearly flustered as he straightened his robes. "You may be the great Albus Dumbledore, but you have no right to stick your long nose where it doesn't belong," he snapped.

"And neither should you," Dumbledore said coldly. "How much did you hear?"

"Nothing!" Snape snapped, his normally pale face flushed red in anger and indignation. "I heard nothing."

Slowly, Dumbledore nodded, turning his attention to Aberforth. "How much do you think he heard?" He asked quietly.

Aberforth shrugged.

"Couldn't have been much," he whispered back. "I saw him at once and followed him immediately. Not more than a few words, I'd say."

"I told you," Snape hissed. "Is my word not enough?"

For several seconds, Dumbledore only looked at him, his eyes scrutinizing.

"Do you want to _Obliviate _him?" Aberforth asked after a few seconds. "Just to be sure?" Snape's head flew up in horror and panic and he bolted, fleeing the room. Aberforth pointed his wand at Snape's back, but Dumbledore placed a calming hand on his shoulder, stopping him from firing a spell.

"No. Let him run. I do not think he heard anything of importance."

Aberforth grunted. "If you say so. If you don't need me anymore, I'll go back downstairs. I've got a bar to run." He left the room, and Dumbledore turned his attention back to the rather pale Sybill.

A wide smile stretched across his face as he looked at her, his eyes slowly regaining their famous twinkle. "Well, Sybill – may I call you Sybill?" Sybill nodded, still quite stunned. "Splendid!" Dumbledore practically beamed. "Sybill, I have to say you have surprised me greatly with your skills tonight. I am pleased to say I think I have found exactly what I was looking for!"

"Y-you have?" Sybill stammered, quite bewildered.

"Yes!" Dumbledore nodded cheerfully. "It would be an honour if you would come teach at Hogwarts – in fact, I would love it if you decided to move in on a permanent basis. Perhaps in one of the towers? You would be completely undisturbed and if you want other arrangements, I am certain we can work something out."

Sybill Trelawney blinked. Then blinked again. "I-I got the job?"

"But of course!" Dumbledore smiled. "No question about it. So what do you say? In fact, you could move in straight away, to give you plenty of time to prepare yourself and settle in - though your teaching duties won't start until September, of course."

"I-I'd love to!" Sybill stammered out, only now beginning to recover from her shock.

"Excellent!"

As Dumbledore led Trelawney outside, only absently listening to her ramblings, the twinkle from his eyes disappeared. He had to go over the prophecy again in his pensieve, but he had no doubt it held the answers he needed to end this war – perhaps even to shake magical Britain – the _world _– up by its very foundation. And the source of it had to be protected, which meant making sure Sybill Trelawney was safely tucked away at Hogwarts. He could not risk her falling into Voldemort's hands.

He had to keep the prophecy secret, at all cost.

* * *

"My Lord!" The doors to Voldemort's throne chamber slammed open, Snape silhouetted in the doorway. The Death Eater hurried forward, falling into a hasty, sloppy bow by his feet.

"Severus," Voldemort acknowledged as he looked down at him, displeased. "I did not summon you tonight. Why are you here?"

Snape visibly gulped. "I apologize, but I have news, my Lord: it is important."

"It better be, since you dare barge in here like my _equal._ Something you are _not, _nor will you ever be, Severus, and you would do well to remember it," the Dark Lord told him, voice cold.

"Yes, my Lord," Snape mumbled. "I was at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, when Dumbledore stepped inside to have an interview with someone for the post of Divination professor at Hogwarts."

"This is what you disturbed me for? As much as Dumbledore's whereabouts and actions interest me, I do not see the relevance of this to our cause," Voldemort spat. "You disappoint me, Severus. _CRU – "_

" – Wait!" Snape exclaimed. "There's more. I-I thought the interview went on for a ridiculous amount of time, so I followed upstairs to listen in. T-the woman – she was...she was foreshadowing. She was telling a prophecy. A real one!"

Voldemort lowered his wand. _"A prophecy?"_ He hissed. "You are certain of this?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Well?" The Dark Lord demanded, impatient. "What did it say?"

Snape licked his lips. _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches," _he recited, trying not to flinch as his master noticeably stiffened in fury. _"Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…" _He trailed off.

Voldemort's red eyes were blazing, his body trembling in anger. "And? Go on!"

"T-there was more to it, my Lord," Snape said. "B-but…the barkeeper discovered me. I-I did not hear the rest."

"You did not _hear the rest?"_ The Dark Lord's voice was dangerously low. "You come to me, with the news of a prophecy – a prophecy that seemingly refers to my possible downfall – and YOU DON'T CATCH IT ALL?" Voldemort voice rose to impossible levels. _"CRUCIO! CRUCIO!"_

"I-I'M SORRY, MY LORD!" Snape cried out between his screams of pain. "I-if I had not been discovered – "

"Do not make excuses for your failings!" Voldemort spat, increasing the power behind the Unforgivable, basking in the way Snape's screams grew louder. "This is _inexcusable._ You would not have been discovered in the first place if you had been less pathetic and taken the right precautions. I am most displeased, Severus. Most displeased, indeed."

He finally lifted the curse. "If it were not for the fact that I value your skills and intellect, Severus, you would not be leaving this room alive," Voldemort said. "But, considering that without you, I would not know of the prophecy at all, I will spare your life, this once. You have one more chance."

"Yes, yes…thank you," Snape was nodding furiously from his place on the floor, shivering and sobbing. "I-I'll do anything, my Lord."

"Do not fail me again, Severus," the Dark Lord warned. "I will not be so lenient again."

"No, my Lord," Snape shook his head. "Never. I am your most…loyal servant."

"I hope so, Severus. I certainly hope so…for your sake. Or you can wave goodbye to the _reward _I have offered you in return for your services. In fact, in view of this transgression, it is even now hanging in the balance."

Snape swallowed.

"Do not forget, Severus: success is met with reward, and mistakes with punishment. Your _claim _to Lily Potter can easily be taken away. It is only due to my benevolence that you can have her, after all. Remember that, before you fail me again."

Snape gritted his teeth, something that did not go unnoticed, and the Dark Lord raised an enquiring eyebrow: "Does that displease you, Severus? Perhaps you find it _unfair?"_

Severus did, in fact, find it unfair, but was not about to say that to the Dark Lord. "Not at all, my Lord. You are most generous."

Voldemort nodded. "You may leave."

Slowly, wincing, still in pain from the Cruciatus curse, Snape stood, bowing stiffly. "Oh, and Severus," Voldemort added, voice quiet but the threat obvious: "Do not mistake my _generosity _for mercy. I have given you one more chance and one chance only – waste it, and your life – _and _the life of Lily Potter – will be forfeit, mark my words."

* * *

_**Published: **__28/07 -11  
__**Edited: **__24/06 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- "Just as likely as a disarming charm offing the Dark Lord" – a little well-meant cheek to Deathly Hallows.  
- Snape overhears the prophecy: we know from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix that someone overheard Trelawney's prophecy. From Deathly Hallows, we know that person is Snape.  
- The two additional parts to the prophecy: with Buffy's appearance in the HP-verse, there are many changes. The prophecy is part of it, as well as a hint of what may happen further on.  
- "I-I'll do anything." This line by Snape was meant to contrast Lily's appeal to the Dark Lord in canon: while Severus begs for his own life, Lily begs for her son's.


	4. News

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. Star Wars is the property of George Lucas. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**14 February**

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Alice and Frank opened the door to their manor, welcoming Buffy and Remus inside.

"Thanks, you too!" Buffy grinned at them. "Is the rest of the Order here already?"

The Order had decided to celebrate Valentine's Day together, rather than with their respective others – unless they were in the Order as well. After everything, Dumbledore felt they needed a get together that wasn't a meeting about the war, but rather just a time to relax and laugh: and what better occasion than during the holiday of love?

"Almost everyone," Alice answered. "Sirius isn't here yet and neither are Caradoc and Eliza. Personally, I think Caradoc's on a personal strike against all the pink around this time of year."

Remus smirked. "So you don't think they'll show up together? They seem pretty tight nowadays, ever since Buffy first paired them up during her training sessions."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Not _that_ tight. I'm fairly certain they're just friends, and it doesn't surprise me: while Caradoc may be a big softie underneath his tough exterior, he's best served in small doses. Besides, Eliza would be mad to try and enter a relationship with someone who runs at the slightest show of affection."

Just as he finished that sentence, two pops of apparition were heard and four jaws dropped as Caradoc showed up – with Eliza.

"Bonjour!" Eliza said with a smile. "I hope we're not late."

"Who cares?" Caradoc grumbled.

"I-I didn't expect you to come, Caradoc," Alice said weakly. "I didn't think this holiday was your thing..."

"It isn't," Caradoc muttered as he stepped inside and made his way to the Longbottom's large sitting room, Eliza, Remus, Buffy, Alice and Frank following behind. "But Dumbledore had the gall to send _her_ over," he gestured to Eliza with his head, "and bug me until I gave in and agreed to come."

Eliza smirked in satisfaction.

"Right...so...you're not together?" Remus asked, almost walking into Eliza's back when both she and Caradoc abruptly froze in their steps.

"...Together?" Caradoc choked out after a long pause.

"Umm...no," Eliza shook her head wildly, her face red. "Definitely not."

Buffy pouted as they started walking again, finally reaching the sitting room and the rest of the Order. "But you'd make a great couple!"

Caradoc and Eliza threw her identical horrified looks. "By Merlin's beard, what's wrong with you, woman?" Caradoc demanded to know.

"What isn't?" James sniggered and Buffy stuck out her tongue at him before taking a seat beside Lily, wearing a rather baggy top. Come to think of it, Buffy frowned, the fashionista in her protesting, so was Alice.

"Well!" Dumbledore stood up, clapping his hands together. "Let me just begin to say how pleased I am everyone took the time to make it here tonight."

Moody snorted. "Were forced, more like," he muttered at Benjy Fenwick, whose lips twitched at the gruff Auror's complaint.

"I have decided we should start up the evening with a little game!" Beaming, the Headmaster held up an old, tattered wizarding hat that had the Order stare in incredulity. The hat was filled with pieces of bright pink parchment. "Now, everyone, just draw a note from the hat and one by one, we'll follow the instructions that are written on them!"

"Albus," Minerva McGonagall almost whimpered. "Is that...the Sorting Hat?"

"_Yes, it is!"_ Everyone jumped as the hat in question began to talk. _"And can I just say that while I welcome the break from my normally rather monotonous life, this particular assignment is degrading!"_

Edgar Bones coughed uncomfortably when Dumbledore handed him the upside down Sorting Hat, a wide smile still on his face as the Headmaster completely ignored the hat's protests. "Sorry," the Wizengamot member muttered to the hat as he drew a piece of parchment from inside it.

"What kind of game is this, Albus?" Marlene asked, one of the few not to wear an expression of doubt, disgust, worry or disbelief.

"Oh, just something in spirit of the holiday! I want everyone to grow closer and more comfortable around each other," Dumbledore answered cheerfully, causing Gideon and Fabian to burst out into identical grins.

Caradoc closed his eyes in defeat. "I was afraid of that," he muttered.

"I feel your pain, laddie," Moody said, slapping the younger man on the back. "Believe me, I do."

"Well, it could be fun?" Buffy half-stated, half-questioned, not minding a game so much as she minded the fact that Dumbledore had been the one to come up with it.

"And it will be!" Dumbledore promised. "Buffy, why don't you start?" He gave her an encouraging look, and sighing, Buffy unfolded her parchment, quirking an eyebrow at the contents. "Read what it says out loud."

"Umm...everyone with red hair, say something that most people may not have known about you."

"Well, I'll start," Dorcas said after a brief pause. "Something most people probably don't know is that my favourite number is six because in Swedish for example, six is spelled _sex."_ She smirked as Gideon, Fabian and numerous others wolf-whistled appreciatively.

"We're next!" Fabian said. "And since Gideon and I know practically more about each other than ourselves, we'll tell you something about the other. Gideon snores. _Loudly."_

"I do not!" Gideon protested.

"Yes, you do," Fabian sing-songed. "You sound like an angry boar."

Gideon flushed as the Order sniggered. "Well...you sing in the shower!"

Fabian gasped. "Traitor! You promised never to mention that to anyone!"

Gideon shrugged faux-innocently. "I've got no memory of that."

Lily chuckled at the twins. "Before you two begin to hex each other senseless, I believe it's my turn." She exchanged a meaningful look with James, who nodded and both stood up. "Something about me that most people – other than James and Sirius – don't know, is that _I'm pregnant!"_ She practically squealed, even as a deafening silence fell over the room. And then, it was broken by loud cheers of congratulations.

"That's awesome, Lily!" Buffy grinned, hugging the red-head, feeling a slight bump against her stomach as she did so.

"When are you due?" Peter asked curiously.

"End of July," Lily answered, earning herself a loud gasp from Alice.

"No way!" The blonde exclaimed. "End of July? Me too!"

"You're pregnant as well?" Marlene exclaimed in surprise, and even more joyful exclamations broke out. Alice flushed, having forgotten for a moment she hadn't told anyone except Frank, Augusta, Lily and James.

"Yes...Frank and I were planning on telling everyone today. So...surprise!" Alice grinned, and Frank wrapped an arm around her.

"Well, hell, Alice," Moody grumbled, rather put out at the fact that this would mean he'd soon lose one of his best Aurors.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Lily exclaimed, her face breaking out into a wide grin. "I bet our kids are going to be the bests of friends."

Dumbledore wore a smile as he congratulated both couples, though his eyes lacked a twinkle as the implications of the news sank in. Two children born at the end of July... born to those who had thrice defied Voldemort. It seemed that the possible end of Tom Riddle was coming closer, just as the prophecy predicted. And while that made him happy, it also made him sad and worried, knowing that it put four of his Order members into an even greater danger than before.

"You're having a baby too, huh?" A slightly hoarse voice said from the door to the sitting room, and everyone turned, coming to face with Sirius Black. "I suppose congratulations are in order. And sorry I'm late."

"N-no worries," James stammered, not having expected him to show up. It seemed like his best friend had finally gotten his act at least somewhat together since his and Lily's visit: Sirius had shaved and showered, and he was wearing clean robes. However, there was no mistaking the paleness in his face, or the dark shadows adjourning his eyes – it was apparent that he was still grieving deeply for Mandy.

"Thanks, Sirius," Frank said as the Black slouched down in a hastily conjured seat.

"So...what are we doing?" He asked uncomfortably.

"We're playing a game," Remus said hesitantly, wondering if Sirius was still mad at him. "Umm...there's probably a parchment for you in the hat if you want it."

Sirius only nodded slightly, but did not acknowledge Remus in any other way. "Remus, it is your turn to draw!" Dumbledore called, and hesitantly, Remus pulled up one of the pink notes from the Sorting Hat.

"Tell everyone about an embarrassing moment for you," he read and immediately flushed as James, Buffy and most of the Order hooted. "Headmaster...is this really necessary?"

"Absolutely!" Dumbledore insisted, nodding firmly.

"Well...James, Peter and Sirius already know this, but while in fourth year, I was setting up a prank in one of the girl's bathrooms." Coughing uncomfortably, he tried to ignore McGonagall's glare of death. "However, James had messed up the potion I was rubbing onto the toilet seat, which was _supposed_ to yell insults when someone sat down... Instead, the toilet in question got loose from the floor and proceeded to chase methrough the school, while throwing insults at _me." _He threw James a glare even as the rest of the Order practically fell over laughing, and even McGonagall's lips twitched. "Which reminds me, you never apologized for that."

James held up his hands in defeat. "Sorry. But you can't be sure it was my fault!" He smirked. "Maybe you rubbed the toilet the wrong way. Get it? _Rubbed_ it the wrong way?" He burst out laughing at his own joke, while most of the other people groaned at him.

"James, honey," Lily said sweetly, "please don't take _this_ the wrong way, but your puns suck most of the time, unless they're thrown at Voldemort in the heat of battle. Which really isn't that great of an idea either."

"Hey! You're right there with me," James huffed, and then he let an eyebrow rise. "Besides, who's the more foolish: the _fool_, or the _fool_who _follows him_?"

Buffy began humming on the _Star Wars_ theme, even as Lily's lips twitched. "True."

Caradoc shook his head. "Mad. The lot of you."

"You'd be singing a different tune if you'd seen the awesomeness that is _Star Wars!" _James protested. "By the way, Buff, when is the second movie released? You promised there'd be more of them!"

Buffy wracked her brains to try and remember. "I'm not sure. It might be this summer or autumn, I think."

"Excellent! I can barely wait!" James rubbed his hands in anticipation. "What about you, Pads?" He asked Sirius, in an attempt to involve him in the conversation.

Sirius managed to bring up a small smile. "Sure. Should be fun."

"Could we get back to the game?" Moody grumbled, feeling the conversation had gotten quite far off the tracks.

Dumbledore beamed. "Why, Alastor!" He exclaimed. "I knew you'd warm up to it. Why don't you draw next?"

Moody groaned even as Caradoc sniggered evilly from beside him.

During the course of the game, it was revealed that Moody liked Dr. Who, Dumbledore disliked Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Benjy had a phobia of bees, Hagrid liked to cook and Eliza to photograph. It was also revealed that Minerva enjoyed listening to the Rolling Stones, Edgar's favourite colour was yellow and Marlene used to own a dog named Betty even though it was male. Something else that was made known was that Sirius hated betrayal (this said with a pointed glare at Remus), Caradoc liked to sleep in on weekends, Frank's worst fear was dying alone and Alice's was that of losing her child.

After the 'meeting' was called to a close, Sirius was the first out the door, quickly followed by Remus. "Sirius, wait!" The lycanthrope called. "We need to talk."

Sirius whirled around, eyes blazing steel grey. "What about?" He demanded to know.

"What happened to Mandy is awful, and I understand that you blame me," Remus said. "I blame myself as well. But what happened was bad luck, okay? I didn't let her get taken on purpose – "

" – Didn't you, Moony?" Sirius interrupted. "Are you sure? You heard what I said in there – I hate betrayal. But you...I want to believe I can trust you, but I can't."

"Why?" Remus asked.

Sirius gave him a long look. "You know why."

"No, I don't!" Remus exclaimed. "And frankly, I'm tired of you acting like this! I can't help what happened in Hogsmeade – I reacted to Buffy getting hurt, and I'm not going to apologize for that, even if I'm deeply sorry for what it led to."

"This is not just about Mandy!" Sirius hissed.

"Yes, it is, and you know it," Remus said sharply. "I know you suspected me of being a traitor before, but whatever it was that made you think that wasn't enough to get you to act on it. Not until Hogsmeade."

Sirius gave him a deep glare. "Believe what you want. I don't care. In fact, I'd prefer it if you'd stay as far away from me as possible."

"You're being unreasonable," Remus said through gritted teeth.

"No, I'm not. I can't help what I feel, Remus, and right now, all I can feel toward you is disgust." With that, Sirius turned around and stalked out of the manor.

Buffy, who'd been watching the confrontation with worried eyes, walked forward and put her hand on Remus' shoulder. "Come on. Let's go home. Sirius' will come around."

Remus slowly shook his head. "I'm not so certain he will."

* * *

A knock on the door interrupted Severus' peace, and his eyes narrowed as he put down his firewhiskey, moving to open the door. "What do you want?" He said shortly, only slightly startled at the identity of the visitor. "And how did you find this address?"

"It wasn't that difficult. Aren't you going to let me in?" Dorcas Meadowes asked, looking up at her tall sort-of-but-not-really boyfriend. Wordlessly, Severus held the door open for her and the Order-member stepped inside, looking around curiously. "Nice place. It's very...muggle," she commented.

"It_ is_ muggle, what did you expect?" Severus said, walking back to his chair in front of the fire.

Dorcas sat down in the sofa, hands clasped in her lap. "I just came by to wish you a happy Valentine," the red-head said, looking slightly uncomfortable. Snape snorted in derision. "And to see if you were alright," she added.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Severus asked calmly.

"Well, I heard about your father's death," Dorcas mumbled. "It must have come as a bit of a shock."

"Not really," Severus said mildly. "To be honest, I expected it to happen sooner or later."

Dorcas looked confused. "You expected him to drown in the river?"

Severus snorted. "No. But I expected him to die." He threw her a meaningful glance and Dorcas blanched.

"You killed him?" She asked, incredulously.

Emotionless black eyes looked back at her. "Now, did I say that?"

"You didn't deny it," Dorcas muttered, a shiver racing up her spine.

"True," Severus acknowledged.

Not sure if she wanted to know the truth, Dorcas changed the subject: "So this is where you're going to live from now on? Rather than at You-Know-Who's Headquarters?"

"For the most part, yes," Severus eye quirked. "Don't worry: you're still welcome in my bed." He sipped slowly at his firewhiskey.

Dorcas eyes narrowed. "That's still all I am?" She asked. "A bed-partner, even after all this time?"

"That, and a source of information," Severus answered, and then chuckled. "Oh, don't look so disappointed, Meadowes. You knew this was nothing but a business-arrangement when we started – why would a few months have changed anything?" Severus smirked, even though he inwardly felt slightly guilty: he knew he was an arse towards Meadowes most of the time, but what else did she expect? He didn't do emotions. He didn't care about her, and if she thought that would change just because they shared a bed and some information from time to time, then she was delusional. No, she was only convenient. There was only one red-head he really wanted and Dorcas Meadowes was not her.

Dorcas didn't answer. "I guess I should leave," she said instead.

"Perhaps you should. Unless you have any new information on Lily, of course."

Dorcas bit her lip. "Yes, I do. But it's rather personal."

"Personal?" Severus asked mildly. "Well, now you've gotten my interest up. Do tell."

"Why should I?" Dorcas challenged and Severus' eyes grew cold. He placed his fingertips an inch or so above his Dark Mark, relishing in the way the Order-member flinched at the action.

Severus smiled. "I see you understand. Don't forget our agreement, Meadowes. It would be all too easy for me to turn you in as the traitor you are. It's your call."

Dorcas jaw clenched. "Lily is pregnant," she finally said reluctantly.

Severus forced himself not to flinch in shock. "Oh?" He asked mildly. "When is she due?"

Dorcas shrugged. "End of July, if all goes as planned. That's all I know."

"Hmm...well, I expect you can see yourself out." Severus nonchalantly picked up a potions magazine from the table and pretended to begin to read, even though he was unable to focus on a single word. Dorcas' lips pursed in displeasure as she stormed from the room angrily. "Oh, and Meadowes?" Severus asked mildly and Dorcas came to a stop in the doorway, looking hopeful.

"Yes?"

"Don't just show up here without an invitation, next time," Severus said, knowing she was hoping he would ask her to stay, or wish her a happy Valentine in return. The very idea of that was laughable.

Dorcas glared, and left the building, the door slamming behind her.

_CRASH!_

The vase and the glass of firewhiskey that had been standing on the table smashed into the floor with a loud sound when Severus swept it all away with an angry sweep of his arm.

Pregnant.

Lily was pregnant.

With Potter's child.

The prophecy... Images of newspaper clippings that Severus had been reading with fervour, desperate for any news of Lily flashed before his minds' eye...hailing the Potters as heroes. _Born to those who have thrice defied him. _How many times had James and Lily stood before the Dark Lord and openly mocked him, _defied _him?

The Ministry – One time.

St. Mungo's – Two times.

Hogsmeade – _Three_ times.

And the baby was due at the end of July. The seventh month. _Born __as the seventh month dies._

Inwardly, Severus trembled and felt himself grow cold with the realisation he may have unintentionally put the woman he loved in grave danger. His plans to kill Black were forgotten. While he was vulnerable at the moment, doubtlessly completely destroyed by his girlfriend's fate, he just couldn't bother with him, even though now was the perfect time to strike. If the Dark Lord saw Lily as a threat because of the prophecy...because of the baby she carried...

_The one with the power to van__quish the Dark Lord approaches…_ Severus' fists clenched. Everything had been so clear just a few minutes ago: he was going to kill Black, let the Dark Lord take care of Potter, expose Meadowes as a traitor, and then, nothing would stand between him and Lily again.

But it seemed fate itself was against him: a whole new set of problems he had not foreseen had shown up, problems that might include the Dark Lord himself.

Could he be sure the Dark Lord would spare Lily? Could he be sure that she would be given to him, like promised? Or would that promise become null and void when it was made clear she was the mother of the child that might be his downfall? Severus sat frozen in his chair, lost in thought, his mind a whirlwind of emotion.

* * *

**15 February**

_Knock, knock._

Sirius' head flew up from where it had been resting against the table-top as he heard the noise of someone knocking on his door. Blearily, he glanced at the watch hanging from the wall: it was four in the afternoon.

"Come in," he croaked out, and a second or so later, the door opened, revealing Albus Dumbledore in the doorway.

Sirius blinked in surprise and hastily stood up, swaying slightly on the spot and accidentally knocking over his glass and the nearly empty bottle of _Odgen's finest. _"Headmaster. What a lovely surprise," he drawled. "Can I get you anything?"

Dumbledore threw a casual look around the mess of Sirius' apartment. "A cup of tea would be welcome."

Sirius frowned. "Sorry," he slurred. "I'm out of tea. In fact, I'm out of a lot of things. Now, alcohol on the other hand...that I have."

"I think I will pass, thank you," Dumbledore said and sat down on Sirius' sofa, once he had cleared it of the bunch of clothes strewn on top of it. "I was pleased to see you at the meeting yesterday, even if you were a bit late. I think your friends appreciated your presence."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, I bet. Because I'm such pleasant company nowadays."

"Nevertheless," Dumbledore said smoothly, "I took your attendance to mean you were feeling better." He glanced at Sirius hung-over appearance and the empty bottles around the apartment. "It appears I might have been a little too optimistic in my thinking."

Sirius snorted. "There's no need to worry. I'm still up for Order business. Do you need me for something? It's not every day one gets a personal visit from Albus Dumbledore himself."

"Well, Sirius, the truth is I wanted to see how you were doing," Dumbledore admitted. "I can see now that we also need to have a little talk."

"Fire away!" Sirius exclaimed, sinking down onto the chair he'd previously vacated and looking expectantly on Dumbledore.

"You cannot go on like this, Sirius," Dumbledore said bluntly. "You say you are up for Order business, however, from the look of things, I'd have to respectfully disagree." His blue eyes lacked their normal twinkle as he stood up. "Miss Walker would not have wanted this for you. She would have wanted you to fight, and your energy is wasted on a bottle."

Sirius smiled humourlessly. "Is this an intervention, Headmaster?"

"Yes," the Headmaster said. "I need my Order-members clear-headed and ready, and I'm sure the Auror department feels the same way about their recruits. I understand you are grieving, but until you pull yourself together, you are not of any use in this war."

Sirius pursed his lips together. "Is that all?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes. Believe it or not, Mr. Black, I did not come here to lecture you. However, I would be more than glad if you take what I've just said to heart. There are people who still need and love you, Sirius. Do not forget that."

* * *

**16 February**

"A report, my most loyal follower," Voldemort told Peter, who swelled up at the praise. "What news from your Order?"

"Not much my Lord," Peter said, bowing. Voldemort rolled his eyes, something that Peter didn't notice. "The last meeting with Dumbledore was more like a game."

"A game?" Voldemort let an eyebrow rise. "Well, if the old coot has time for such things, perhaps I ought to plan something that will keep him busy. But, game or no game, what did you learn?"

"Not much of interest, my Lord," Peter admitted. "Just silly things, like spare-time interests and likes and dislikes. There was…one thing, though I am not sure what use knowing this will be to you."

"Try me," Voldemort prompted, leaning back against his throne.

"The Longbottoms - and Lily and James - they – " Peter hesitated.

"Yes?" Voldemort prompted. "What are my dear rivals up to?"

"They are expecting, my Lord," Peter said. "Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom are pregnant."

Voldemort froze. "Pregnant, you say? Does either of them happen to be due at the end of July?"

"As a matter of fact, both of them," Peter answered, and Voldemort clenched his fists.

"Both of them," he repeated softly as the prophecy Snape had told him crossed through his mind. "How very interesting…"

* * *

**18 February**

Moody looked up from his cubicle at the Auror department, his wand and a curse at the ready as a shadow fell over his desk.

"Reporting for duty, sir," Sirius told the Auror with a mock-salute.

"Sirius," the Auror grunted, slowly lowering his wand. "I wasn't expecting you back at work yet."

Sirius shrugged. "It's not like I've got anything better to do, unless sitting in my apartment and staring at the walls are considered better."

"Well, I am pleased to hear it," Moody said gruffly standing up and slapping Sirius on the back. "I find that grief is best challenged into putting some nasty bastards behind bars. Ready to take out some Death Eaters?"

Sirius smirked humorlessly. "Just point me in the right direction."

Moody chuckled. "That's the spirit. Well, you know where the rest of the recruits are. I expect you'll team up with Potter for training as usual?"

"Might as well," Sirius agreed and began to walk towards the large area in the Ministry reserved for Auror training.

"Hey, lad," Moody interrupted and Sirius came to a stop.

"Yeah?"

"Glad to have you back."

* * *

**22 February**

Buffy anxiously looked at the watch hanging on the wall for the twentieth time in less than an hour. She couldn't stand the wait. Impatiently, she began to pace across the room.

"There's no need to worry, Buffy," she said out loud to herself. "Everything's going to be fine. No one is going to get hurt just because you're not there. Don't blame yourself. I am in no state to help until I get my emotions under control. And now I'm talking to myself. _Great."_ She sighed in frustration, clenching and unclenching her fists.

Buffy was voluntarily sitting at home while the rest of the Order was out helping in another Death Eater attack on the country, this one in a heavily populated muggle area. Buffy knew she would be more of a hindrance than help until she managed to get over whatever block she was suffering from that kept her from going all out in a fight and made her a liability.

The fact that she was staying behind willingly however, didn't make the wait any easier. Half of her was itching to go out there – and at the same time, her other half was screaming that she wasn't ready, that she'd get herself, or someone else, killed. Buffy felt a sharp twinge in her chest – if she'd fought better in Hogsmeade, or even stayed behind, would Mandy still have been taken? Or would she still be here, with her memory intact?

Glancing at the clock again, Buffy fought the temptation to open her empathic connection to Remus to try and figure out what was going on from the emotions he was experiencing: she knew it would be stupid to try – she and Remus were still working on developing and controlling their bond, with mixed success. And they'd never tried in when they weren't in the same room, or close to it. To try it across the country when Remus was in the middle of battle would be idiotic – what if she disturbed him and made him loose his concentration?

Finally, fed up with just waiting and fretting, Buffy ventured down into the basement and decided to vent her frustrations on the equipment there, imagining it was Voldemort she was punching rather than a sandbag. Her temporary outlet ended rather suddenly, however, when she punched it a little too forcefully and she accidentally kicked it off its hook and across the room.

Buffy slumped down onto the training mat with a pout. She was tired of feeling this way, of doubting herself, of not being of any help. She wasn't used to feeling helpless – she was the Slayer, damn it! She'd overcome impossible odds too many times to count. Whatever life threw at her, she could handle! Or so she had thought.

"I wonder what Giles would do if he knew about my issues…" She mumbled out loud, her lips twitching slightly as she realized he would do what he always did: wipe his glasses and consult his books. Absently, Buffy wondered if there even _were _books on this.

Suddenly, Buffy wished she had insisted on learning more about her predecessors while she had the chance. Maybe she should have made a serious attempt to look through Giles' old Watcher Journals, rather than only doing it while trying to find an image of a costume that would impress Angel… Goodness knows that hadn't helped her out anyway. Buffy sighed. She couldn't believe she'd thought being a Slayer in Sunnydale was hard. Compared to being in a war against Voldemort, it was a piece of cake.

"Buffy?" A voice suddenly called from upstairs and Buffy ran up, coming face to face with Lily and Alice.

"Is the battle over?" She asked, breathless.

"No," Alice said, rather sourly. "It's still going on, but Lily and I are being forced to sit it out." She made a grimace. "Dumbledore went nearly berserk when he saw us on the battlefield – quite uncharacteristic of him, really – and Moody was quick to back him up, saying we should know better." She snorted.

"Well, you_ are _pregnant," Buffy pointed out hesitantly, earning herself two identical glares, and she coughed uncomfortably. "Anyway, how did you convince Frank and James to let you come in the first place?"

Lily snorted. "That was easy. Both of them are mush in our hands, right Alice?"

Alice smirked. "You couldn't be more correct. Anyway, from now on, both of us are off active Order duty, so we've come to join you in wait and misery."

"This is going to sound really insensitive, but I'm kind of glad," Buffy admitted. "I was going crazy waiting for news with nothing to distract me. Was the battle going well when you left?"

"I have no idea," Lily said honestly. "Maybe, maybe not. Both sides seemed pretty even, number-wise, anyway."

"Well, here's to hoping," Alice said optimistically.

* * *

**__****Published: **_11/08 -11_

* * *

**Trivia**

- "Who's the more foolish: the _fool_, or the _fool_who _follows him_?" – Obi-Wan Kenobi to Han Solo: _Star Wars – A New Hope.  
_- Dumbledore's dislike of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans: at the end of _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, _we learn Dumbledore lost his liking for the candy after coming across a vomit-flavoured one in his youth.  
- Hagrid liked to cook: we all know of Hagrid's tendency to serve rock cakes...the man might like to cook – but that clearly doesn't mean he's any good at it...  
- Voldemort can be summoned by his Death Eaters if they press a finger against the Dark Mark, which is why Dorcas flinches when Severus places his fingertips above his as an implied threat that he is more than ready to do so.  
- _Maybe she should have made a serious attempt to look through Giles' old Watcher Journals, rather than only doing it while trying to find an image of a costume that would impress Angel… Goodness knows that hadn't helped her out anyway._ In the BTVS season 2 episode Halloween, Buffy looked through Giles' old Watcher Journals to find out what the women wore in Angel's time. The costume she ended up wearing fit the bill, but unfortunately it also turned her into a lady who faints at the sight of danger…


	5. Journal

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

"Oi! James!" Frank yelled. "Back me up?" The Auror was cornered by four Death Eaters and James, seeing his predicament, quickly stunned his opponent and ran to help.

"Having trouble?" James asked cheekily.

"I'm not used to fighting without Alice by my side," Frank admitted. "But I'm relieved Dumbledore and Moody forced her to leave. I imagine you feel the same about Lily?"

James nodded, while ducking a spell sent by one of the Death Eaters. "I know she can take care of herself – Merlin knows she makes sure to remind me often enough – but I can't help but worry. Especially now that she's pregnant."

"One would think it would be obvious to them that fighting in a battle while carrying a baby isn't the most logical course of action, but no," Frank chuckled slightly. "It doesn't even occur to them."

"Our wives are really special, aren't they?" James said, rather dreamily while conjuring a large magical rope that he wrapped around their opponents, all in various states of helplessness.

"So true," Frank agreed. He and James looked down at the now four bound Death Eaters before them. "Nice work, Potter."

"Likewise, Longbottom," James grinned. "Let's go save some muggles, shall we?"

"Excellent idea," Frank nodded.

* * *

Remus inwardly cursed the Death Eaters while trying to hold up the magical ward he'd cast to protect the building he was currently occupying along with twenty or so muggles. The attack on the muggle area had been swift, arriving with no forewarning, and it was only the Order and the Ministry's quick acting that kept it from becoming a complete slaughter.

The muggles hadn't done anything to deserve being attacked like this – they'd just been living their lives. It was a peaceful neighbourhood, filled with families – and now, only one house was still standing. The rest had either collapsed, burnt to the ground, or had its inhabitants killed mercilessly. The people in this building were all the survivors the Order had managed to save.

Glancing back at the muggle civilians, Remus gritted his teeth against the magical onslaught he could feel pressing against the ward. Warding and shielding wasn't exactly his strong suit, but he'd do what he could to keep these people safe. He'd been holding it up for almost an hour already. Unfortunately, he'd been doing it on will-power alone for the past fifteen or so minutes, and knew he wouldn't last much longer.

"What is going on out there?" A man demanded to know. "What's happening? Who are you people?"

"Some of us are bad guys, some of us are good guys. I'm one of the good guys currently trying to protect you. And, no offense, but I need to concentrate, so if you could all be quiet, it would be much appreciated."

"Concentrate on what?" A woman asked shakily. "What are you doing?"

"I'm shielding this building to keep the bad guys from coming in."

"Can we help?" The woman asked, trying to sound brave and failing.

"No," Remus said shortly. He could feel his magic chore burning inside him and it was taking his every effort to not collapse. He could feel the wolf inside, wanting to take over, screaming at him that he was weak, to let him out, that he couldn't do it without him. It became too much. "Merlin," Remus choked out as he felt the ward flicker, and then, it broke down in a mass of sparks and swivelling magic. The door and most of the wall exploded inwards and then, the Death Eaters were there.

The muggles were screaming. Gathering up the last of his magical reserves, Remus did his best to attack the Death Eaters, but he was badly outnumbered, not to mention exhausted. His spells barely had any strength in them. Then, James was there, somehow having sneaked his way through the mass of Death Eaters in the doorway and was now standing beside him.

"Need help, Moony?" James grinned.

Remus was too tired to even answer and just threw him a weak smile. Before the Death Eaters could get further into the room, James threw up a new ward that his father had once taught him. A shield in shimmering yellow, reaching from the floor to the roof, and stretching from wall to wall, appeared in front of them, blocking the Death Eaters' way.

The Death Eaters immediately began to throw spells at the ward, but they only seemed to be absorbed. James let a satisfied smirk show. "That should keep them busy for awhile."

"Not that I don't appreciate the reprieve," Remus said, sinking down on the floor, "but when your ward fails, we'll be back where we started. You can't keep that shield up forever."

James laughed. "This isn't just any ward, dear Moony," he said, sounding rather smug. "It's a Potter special. It offers near maximum protection against almost all direct magical attacks on a limited area, and the energy needed to keep it up...well, I can probably hold it up for nearly an hour, at least, without breaking a sweat. And the more spells they throw at it, the stronger it will get." He winked at Remus. "Let's see how long it takes before they figure that out, eh?"

"And why was I put in charge of warding this building again, if you're so good at it?" Remus questioned exhaustedly.

"Well, Lily was out there, to begin with, anyway. And I'm also a better fighter than you," James stated.

"No, you're not!" Remus protested.

"Please, Moony," James threw him a look. "I definitely am, and you know it."

"Well...I know more spells than you," Remus said, pouting slightly.

"More knowledge does not make you a better duellist," James answered smugly.

"Just a smarter one," Remus said sweetly.

"Oh, shut up," James huffed. "Use that knowledge of yours and do some first aid on those muggles, eh? They're looking a tad terrified."

"Of your insanity, no doubt," Remus muttered.

James sniffed. "Yes, well, I am an acquired taste."

* * *

Sirius threw spell after spell at every Death Eater on the street he could reach – most of them seemed to be congregating by the only remaining house, which held all the muggle survivors. Just a few minutes ago, the wards which had been held up by Remus had fallen. Sirius couldn't help but wonder whether or not Remus had let them fall on purpose. Luckily, new ones had taken their place rather quickly, most probably thanks to James' intervention – Sirius had seen the Marauder forcibly battling himself past all the Death Eaters and into the house just moments before.

"You doing alright, Black?" Frank Longbottom yelled at him.

"Yeah," Sirius shouted back over the sounds of battle. "Should we help James?"

Frank glanced quickly towards the house. The Death Eaters surrounding it were looking increasingly frustrated by the second, and most were rather easily picked off one by one by the Aurors and Order members, since all the Death Eaters were so focused on the ward in front of them that they failed to notice the enemy behind them. "Nah. I think he's got things well in hand."

Sirius chuckled. "Well, then let's kick these bastards back where they belong, eh?"

"That's the spirit," Frank grinned.

Slowly, the tide was turning as the light side became increasingly more determined to win, and more back-up arrived. The Death Eaters, which had been larger in number at first, were now severely outnumbered. And the fact that Dumbledore was also present didn't help their odds either. A lot of them were either apparating or portkeying away from the site in sheer desperation.

Sirius, having just disarmed his Death Eater opponent, stared in disgust at the man who was desperately fumbling with a rock that he'd pulled out of his pocket, presumably a portkey. His fingers were shaking so badly he dropped it onto the ground, and it rolled down the street, away from him. Sirius couldn't help but snort. How pathetic. It was no wonder Voldemort was trying to recruit from the light side if this was the height of his followers' competence.

Desperate eyes stared up at him through the Death Eater mask. Perhaps he sensed something dangerous in Sirius' eyes, because the man immediately raised his hands in the air. "I-I surrender," the man squealed. "D-don't kill me, please!"

Footsteps appeared behind Sirius, who turned around, seeing Moody approach. "Unlike you, we're not in the habit of killing our prisoners," the old Auror spoke gruffly as he walked up to stand by Sirius' side. "Good job today. Glad you kept your head about you. Tie him up."

Moody began to walk away, and Sirius looked down at the snivelling Death Eater who was now pleading with him to let him go, that he didn't belong in prison, dispassionately. He wondered if he had been one of those who had tortured Mandy so badly she lost all her memories. The very thought of the possibility that he was made Sirius see red.

Almost as if in a trance, Sirius' wand rose to point at the man. _"Avada Kedavra,"_ he intoned, his voice almost unrecognizable to even himself. The spell shot out of his wand and impacted with the Death Eater's chest, a look of shock frozen on his face as he died. A few feet away, Moody, having heard the spell leave Sirius' lips, spun around, staring in shock at Sirius.

Sirius let his wand drop to his side, and then, he walked away. As he walked past a speechless Moody, he glanced at the Auror, his grey eyes cold and unremorseful. "He had it coming," he said darkly, and then, apparated away.

* * *

**2****5 February**

"Black, a word," Moody said gruffly, pulling Sirius aside as he stepped into the Auror Academy three days after the battle.

"You may have several," Sirius answered. "What is it?"

"Good job during the battle last week," Moody said.

"Thank you."

"A little too good, in fact," Moody continued and Sirius' eyes narrowed.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Do you know what separates us from the Death Eaters?" Moody asked.

"We have better hygiene?" Sirius answered dryly.

Moody did not look amused. "We do not kill if it isn't absolutely necessary," he answered his own question. "And if we do, we at least feel remorseful about it."

"Your point being?"

"My point is that you seem to have forgotten about that," Moody said, lips pursed. "You killed a Death Eater - who'd been disarmed and had surrendered - in cold blood. With an Unforgivable curse. I didn't say anything then and there because it wasn't the place for it, but I'm saying it now. What you did was out of line and you're threading dangerously close to deep waters," Moody warned. "Your situation isn't all that different from Summers', you know," he continued. "The difference is, she's feeling guilty enough about it that she's taken herself out of action. And she didn't even do it on purpose."

"So because I'm not sitting home right now, sobbing over a dead Death Eater who deserved what he got, I'm what? Becoming one of them?" Sirius asked impatiently, voice low and angry. "I'm doing my job."

"No, you're playing judge, jury and executioner at the same time," Moody corrected him. "You're not doing your job, Black. You want revenge for what happened to your girlfriend, and you're letting that rule your actions." Sirius jaw clenched, but he said nothing. "You need help, Black. I've seen this happen before. A good person, going off the tracks. I won't let it happen to you. I'll throw you out of the Academy if I have to."

Sirius snorted. "You can't do that. The Auror Department needs everyone they can get."

Moody's fake eye swivelled wildly in its socket. "Do not tell me what I can and can't do. I've got a lot of clout around this place, Black. When I say something, people listen. Take the rest of the week off and cool down, work out your issues. And if your thoughts are in gear, I'll see you next Monday. If they aren't, you might as well stay home. Am I clear, Black?"

"Crystal," Sirius spat out through gritted teeth, fists clenched.

* * *

"Hey." Remus' placed a soft kiss on Buffy's head. "What are you doing?"

"Writing," Buffy answered, closing the cover so Remus couldn't see the contents of the journal. Since the latest Death Eater attack that Buffy, Alice and Lily had sat out on, Buffy had become even more determined to get over her 'inner block' as she called it, so she could once again be an asset, rather than a hindrance, in the war.

The war had been going on for so long already – every day brought more deaths, and she wanted it to end before things could become even worse. Buffy knew she had the power to help do that – she just lacked the resolve to use that power right now. The question was where she would find it.

If only she had someone to sort out her thoughts with, she might be able to get back out there quicker, but she didn't - not really anyway: as much as Remus tried to help, he couldn't really understand because he wasn't the Slayer. As for Buffy...she had killed humans before in this war, with far less of a reaction – the only reason the death of the particular Death Eater had bothered her at all was because she had seen his eyes as he died. It had been face to face. He wasn't just a nameless person, or one of the masses. He had been real. Just as the guilt she was facing was real.

Her thoughts about what her old Watcher would have told her in this situation had given her an idea, however. Writing. If she wrote down her thoughts, and her feelings, perhaps then, she could finally move on. Just as Giles had his Watcher's Journal, she would have a Slayer's Journal.

Remus let an eyebrow rise at her action. "I'm guessing something secret."

"Not secret. Just...private," Buffy said. As much as she loved Remus, this was something she didn't want to share – the things she was putting down in her journal right now was not meant for anyone's eyes but hers.

"Alright. I won't pry. Just as long as you're not writing about some sordid love affair you're having." He smirked.

"Oh My God!" Buffy exclaimed jokingly. "You caught me! But you must understand, Albus is just so intelligent. He understands me! And that long beard..." She sighed dramatically. "It's just so...soft and cuddly."

Remus blanched, his face scrunched up in a disgusted expression. "Okay. That was one disturbing image I did not need. I'll be going now."

Buffy laughed, and as he left the room, she opened up her journal again, biting her lip as she looked over what she'd written so far. "This better help," she muttered to herself.

'_Writing. Never thought I'd see the day I'd voluntarily do something like that – especially not as a preference to fighting. But I guess it's a necessary evil. To be able to reach the ultimate goal – the battlefield – I must first pass the obstacles in my way. And if the only way to do that is by consulting paper and ink, I'll do it._

_So...I killed a human being. Human. Not demonic. Not even half-demonic. Probably evil though. I wish that thought could make me feel better about it, but it doesn't. I remember how I felt in the beginning of this war; that the Death Eaters deserved what they got because they chose the wrong side (never mind that they probably feel the same about us). Perhaps that should have been a warning sign – Buffy and fighting humans clearly do not mix.' _

Taking a deep breath, Buffy put down her pen at the end of her last entry, and began to write again, the words coming fast, without pause.

'_I wonder if the Slayers before me ever killed human beings. And how they dealt with the aftermath, the guilt, the self-disgust...the thought of how 'it was necessary' that makes me feel sick about the situation and myself. Perhaps they didn't feel anything at all. I wish I knew more about them, that I'd taken the time to consult Giles more often about my predecessors. But then again, it may not have helped at all. According to what I know from Giles, I'm not exactly a traditional Slayer._

_I have family, friends, to keep me grounded. Well, they try to. How did the Slayers before me ever manage without that, without someone who cared about them as a person, without someone to live for and come home to? Were they all cold, unfeeling, robotic killing machines? Would that help me deal with all this? Is that the kind of Slayer I should be? I know Kendra wasn't like that, but at the same time, she was. Sort of. _

_Kendra had brilliant technique (better than mine, though I hate to admit it), and knew a lot more than I did. It made her a good Slayer, but she lacked passion and imagination. I got the feeling she had missed out on life. I can't even imagine living a life where Slaying is everything. And yet I need it in my life. I miss it. I'm going crazy, holding myself back from the battle. The fight is in my blood. Finding the balance, that's the tricky part. _

_Right now, I wish Giles was here, more than ever, being his unfailingly British self. Not that I lack in British people, but he always knew just what to say. Xander would cheer me up, and Willow would babble about something that would make me feel better. Cordelia would be blunt and honest, and Oz would say something amazingly profound when least expected. Not that Remus isn't doing a great job – he is. Not too long ago he was the only thing keeping me together. But he's not a major part of the Slayer side of my life. I only let him in – _really_ in – recently. With him, I'm just me, Buffy._

_Perhaps that's the problem. Me. To Remus and Lily and my other friends, I'm 'just Buffy'. To Dumbledore, to some people in the Order, I'm also 'the Vampire Slayer.' But I'm not 'just the Vampire Slayer.' And I'm not 'just Buffy' either. So...my question to the universe is this: Who is 'Buffy?' _

_Who am I?'_

Buffy dropped her pen, closing the journal again. Glancing up, she caught sight of herself in the window. "Well. That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" She muttered at her reflection, the words mimed back towards her as she spoke, without an answer.

* * *

**28 February**

"I was surprised you asked me to come," Dorcas said as she entered Snape's home at Spinner's End. "We didn't end our last meeting on a particularly good note."

"Yes, well, you were the one to come without an invitation and slammed the door when you left," Severus said calmly.

Dorcas' eyes narrowed. "You were acting like an arse. I think I was entitled."

Severus smirked. "If you haven't noticed, I'm a bit of an arse all the time."

Dorcas snorted. Then, she sighed. "Just get to whatever it was you wanted. I'm not in the mood to play games."

"Very well," Severus said. "Lily."

Dorcas rolled her eyes. "Figures. What do you want to know this time?"

"Last time we met," Severus said, standing up. "You told me she was pregnant. I simply wish to know how her pregnancy is progressing."

"You know I don't feel comfortable discussing her private life with you," Dorcas bit out.

" - It all falls under the agreement we made," Severus said sharply. "But if you wish to break our deal..." he trailed of meaningfully, letting his right hand hover meaningfully above his Dark Mark.

Dorcas pursed her lips together. "Her pregnancy is progressing well. She is no longer participating in any battles – she's off active Order duty."

Severus made a noncommittal sound. "I am not sure our deal is in my best interest anymore," he said after a couple of seconds of silence.

Dorcas drew in a sharp breath. "What?" She hissed, aghast. "I've told you all I know about Lily – "

" – Yes. Unfortunately enough for you, they are not things I was not already aware of or could have easily figured out myself," Severus said sharply. "The small snippets of information you have given me weighs rather empty against my continued silence about your actual loyalties."

"I'm not one of Lily's closest friends, so I don't find out anything she doesn't let the Order know! I can't do anything other than what I'm already doing!" Dorcas exclaimed.

"Well, what you're doing is not enough to satisfy me," Severus said harshly.

"I'm doing my best. Severus, please... I thought..." Dorcas swallowed. "...We've gotten somewhat close."

Severus looked amused at her. "You're hoping sentimentality towards you will keep me from telling the Dark Lord the truth? Don't make me laugh. You're just a means to an end, Meadowes, and someone to sleep with on occasion. Start proving your worth, or I will not hesitate to turn you in. If you can't find enough information about Lily to make our arrangement worthwhile, then perhaps you should give me additional information about her friends and the people she spends time with in the Order."

Dorcas looked down at the floor. "I'll do my best," she muttered, before she left, feeling like she had made a deal with the devil. And at a loss on how to get out. And the worst thing was, some days, she wasn't sure she even wanted to.

* * *

**3**** March**

"Black, a word!" Moody yelled as Sirius entered the Auror Academy a week after his unofficial leave.

"Again?" Sirius muttered incredulously to himself, but nonetheless followed Moody to a secluded corner of the room.

"Got your head on straight?" The Auror asked and Sirius sighed and nodded.

"I believe so." During his week off he'd packed up most of Mandy's stuff in boxes (and that hadn't been the easiest thing), and spent time with James and Lily, trying to take it easy. He still wasn't sure what his time off was supposed to accomplish but he did feel better rested, he had to admit.

"Hmm… We'll see. Here," Moody threw him a note. "You're expected."

Sirius eyebrows rose in disbelief as he read what the note said. "You can't be serious!" He exclaimed. "You want me to report to a _counsellor?"_

"If you want to get back on active duty you will," Moody said. "Come now, Black," he added as he saw the disgusted look of incredulity on Sirius' face, "you didn't really think I'd just believe you're alright on your own say so? I'm not stupid." He pointed at the note. "You will attend a row of therapy sessions with the Auror counsellor and when she says you're okay, I'll let you back on active duty. Until then, it's paperwork for you."

"And if I refuse to go?" Sirius asked.

"Then you can consider yourself fired," Moody said bluntly. "This is a condition you have to fulfil if you want to continue Auror training."

Sirius gritted his teeth. "This," he waved the note in the air, "won't help. At all."

"Give it a try," Moody patted his back. "You might be surprised."

* * *

"My Lord," Travers bowed deeply. "The cartographer has broken, at last."

"It's about time," the Dark Lord spoke, a slow smile stretching across his lips. "It took longer than I expected it to. What finally made him crack?"

"After I had Bella torture his wife and child, he became a lot more compliant, as we expected. The man agreed to do anything we wanted after we killed his wife."

Voldemort frowned. "I thought I ordered you to keep them alive to use as further leverage."

"His son is still alive," Travers hurriedly said. "We can use him as insurance. But his wife…well, she was being rather troublesome."

"In what way?"

Travers lips pursed. "She was yelling at her husband not to give in, and, unfortunately, despite the torture we exposed her and their son to, he was beginning to listen. Killing her was necessary."

"I see," the Dark Lord mused. "Good work, Travers. I will put him to work immediately now that he has stopped being difficult. Any news of interest in the Wizarding World?"

"The Weasleys keep breeding like bunnies," Travers sneered. "Arthur Weasley's wife gave birth to a_ sixth_ son two days ago."

Voldemort's red eyes blazed. "No _good _news?"

"Our spies at the Ministry are reporting that Sirius Black was temporarily suspended from Auror duty for a week, though it ends today. It seems the fate of his girlfriend has thrown him for a loop," Travers smirked.

"Excellent. I expect Snape will take care of that particular problem in due time. Any news on our new Minister?"

"Bagnold is…more efficient than we hoped," Travers admitted. "But she is much less of a hindrance than Bones or Crouch would be in the position. We can work around her, easily enough."

"Good. Make sure to keep me updated." The Dark Lord rose from his chair. "Now, I have an appointment with a certain cartographer..."

* * *

"I'm not exactly sure what this is supposed to accomplish," was the first Sirius said once the mind-healer, Clara Dermont, had introduced herself to Sirius, and asked him to sit down. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "This is ridiculous."

"Why is it ridiculous?" The blonde counsellor asked, looking completely at ease.

"I don't need therapy," Sirius said.

"Then what do you need, Sirius?" Clara asked.

Sirius ignored her question. "Look, Ms. Dermont, I'm sure you're very good at your job, but I am to, and I could be of a lot more use out in the field than sitting in this office with you. So if you could just tell Moody that I'm right as rain, I can get out of here, and you can do something more productive with your time."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't do that, Sirius," Clara said. "I'm not going to clear your for field duty until I am sure you can handle said duty. I'm going to evaluate you, as Alastor has asked, and hopefully help you in the process."

"And how are you going to do that?" Sirius asked dryly.

"Are you admitting you need help, Sirius?" Clara asked, jotting something down in her journal. "If you are, that's a very good first step."

"I'm not admitting anything, woman," Sirius snapped out.

Clara just smiled at him. "I can tell something is bothering you."

"Yes, me, being here, with you, in this room," Sirius answered.

"Apart from that," Clara clarified with a slight twitch of her lips. "And if the room is making you uncomfortable, we can go somewhere else, if you wish. I find a more familiar environment sometimes makes people feel more at ease." Sirius stared at her incredulously. Was this woman for real? "Is there anything you'd like to talk about?" Clara continued conversationally.

"Like what? The weather?" Sirius snorted.

"If you'd like," Clara nodded.

Sirius just stared. When two minutes had gone by without him saying anything, Clara spoke again. "Let's play a little game, you and I," Clara suggested, leaning forwards. "We will both say the first word that comes into our minds, one after another. You go first."

"What would be the point of that?" Sirius asked incredulously, but decided to humour her, if only to get out of here quicker. "Fine then. Insanity."

"Why that word?" Clara questioned curiously, writing something else down in her journal. "Is going insane something you fear?"

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

Clara only threw him a neutral look. "The Black family does have a history of mental problems. And after all that you've been through lately, it is understandable if you fear you're slipping into...well, insanity, like you've lost control of your life."

"The only thing that's insane is this situation," Sirius snapped, eyes narrowed. "I don't need to be here."

"You don't _want _to be here," Clara corrected. "Now it's my turn. Loss."

"Why that word?" Sirius asked dryly, repeating Clara's question.

"Because a lot of people are losing things dear to them, other people, even, due to this war. I imagine loss is something you are intimately familiar with. Your brother. Your girlfriend – "

Sirius rose to his feet so quickly his chair fell backwards. "You don't know shit about either of them!" He snapped. "This session is over." As he exited the room, he could hear Clara's voice behind him, annoyingly calm and bright:

"I'll see you tomorrow, same time!"

* * *

**5 March**

The Dark Lord's eyes gleamed with victory as he stared at the cartographer, who was sitting slumped down on his knees in front of him, looking defeated.

"Italy..." Voldemort murmured to himself, then he glanced down at the cartographer. Before the man could react, the Dark Lord had raised his wand and thrown him against a wall, holding him there by magic. "You are telling the truth, are you not?" He asked silkily. "You wouldn't even think of lying to me, would you?"

The man sobbed desperately. "No, no, no...! The thing you're seeking...it's in a lake in Italy!"

Voldemort let him drop. "It better be. After all, your son's well-being depends on your cooperation."

The cartographer's hands trembled against the cold stone-floor. "I-I swear, all the facts point to it." He looked up with red-rimmed eyes. "D-don't hurt my son. Let him go, please. You have what you want."

Voldemort chuckled deeply. "I have _one_ of the things I want," he corrected. "I still have need of your particular...expertise. I still need you to figure out the last two locations. As such, your son is going nowhere."

"Please..." the man begged.

The Dark Lord ignored him. "Take him back to his cell," he ordered Travers who stood in the doorway as he spun around and began to walk out of the room.

The Death Eater bowed low. "With pleasure."

* * *

"Hi, Dumbledore, can I talk to you?" Buffy opened the door to the Headmaster's office, only to catch sight of Eliza who was sitting opposite Dumbledore. "Oh...sorry. I didn't realise you were busy."

"It's quite alright, Buffy," Eliza told her, standing up. "I was done anyway."

"I am glad to hear your lessons are going well," Dumbledore said and Eliza flashed him a smile.

"Mostly well," she corrected. "Some of the Slytherins have made a few comments..." she hesitated and Dumbledore raised a prompting eyebrow for her to continue. "I think they know that my father has disinherited me. This is somewhat a surprise, I admit, since he is French..."

"French or not, purebloods tend to keep track of the business of other purebloods," Dumbledore said. "But make sure your students know you are in charge – do not let them get away with disrespecting you."

"Caradoc told me the same thing," Eliza said, amused. "Only he was far less diplomatic about it."

"What was his suggestion?" Buffy asked. "To re-introduce the old punishments Filch are in favour of?"

"Not quite." Eliza sounded amused. "He suggested having them attend one of your training sessions because he finds those are worse than pure torture." Before Buffy could react to that statement, the French woman slipped out the door.

Eyes twinkling, Dumbledore gestured a stunned Buffy to sit down in the seat Eliza had vacated. "Please, have a seat, Buffy."

Buffy's left eyebrow twitched. "If I kill Caradoc, will you be mad?" Inwardly, she felt quite pleased she had been able to utter that threat since it had been about killing someone - even though she didn't really mean it.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Unfortunately, yes. Now, what can I do for you?"

"I...uh...well." Buffy looked down at her hands. "I was just...wondering some stuff. About the Slayer. I know it's just a myth here, but I was hoping...well, wondering, really, exactly what it says and maybe if there's more to it? Like...a background, or stories, or something. I mean...myths are supposedly based on reality, right? Not that I'm saying there's a Slayer that actually belongs in this dimension running around somewhere or anything," she hastily added.

"I was wondering when you'd ask," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling even brighter. He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a thick book. As he placed it at the top of his desk, a cloud of dust rose up. As she looked at it, Buffy couldn't help but be reminded of the _Vampyr_ book Giles had placed on the top of the library desk during their first meeting. The only difference was that on this book, the words _Tales & Legends_ was emblazoned underneath the 'Vampyr' lettering. "I think this will tell you all you need to know. It is a complete reference to everything this dimension has to say about vampires and myths surrounding them, including that of the Slayer. The information about the Slayer myth begin on page 736."

"Thanks," Buffy muttered, lifting up the book. "Can I keep this, or...?"

"Dear girl," Dumbledore said, smiling. "I obtained it just for you."

* * *

_**Published: **__25/08 -11_

* * *

**Trivia**

- As mentioned in _Road of Innocence_, James father used to be a ward designer for the Ministry before his retirement, which is why I gave James some skill with warding as well, thanks to knowledge inherited from his dad.  
- Kendra, that Buffy writes about in her journal, is the Slayer who was called after Buffy's first death in BTVS 1x12: _Prophecy Girl._ Kendra was later killed by Drusilla in BTVS 2x21: _Becoming, Part 1.  
_- The sixth Weasley son is, of course, Ron Weasley, whose birthday is March 1.  
- The Vampyr book Buffy is referring to is from _Welcome to the Hellmouth,_ BTVS 1x1.


	6. Down

DISCLAIMER  
Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, and Harry Potter to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for mine, and others, entertainment.

* * *

**7 March**

"How are you feeling today, Sirius?" Clara asked kindly.

"Annoyed. Angry. And impatient to get out of here," Sirius answered, sounding rather tired. He'd continued to meet with the therapist, even though he could have just refused to come back. Of course, that would have meant the loss of his job, but Sirius knew Moody's threat to fire him wouldn't be enough to attend these sessions if he were really against them. But for some reason he was still here anyway.

"Well, it's the end of the week. Do you have any special plans for this weekend?"

"I hope to Merlin you're not asking me out," Sirius answered with a disgusted expression.

Clara chuckled. "No, I'm not. It was an innocent question."

"None of your questions are innocent," Sirius countered. "And, no, I don't."

"I think it would do you good to get out some," Clara said. "What about your friends? What are they doing?" Sirius shrugged. "You said you're angry," Clara continued. "Why?"

"Several reasons, I guess."

"Pick one of them," Clara prompted.

"My girlfriend's gone," Sirius said bitterly.

"Gone, but not dead," Clara reminded him. "Things could be worse."

"Please tell me this is not where you tell me to always look on the bright side of life," Sirius said snappishly with a roll of his eyes. "Because I don't feel like I have a lot to smile about. As you've so kindly pointed out several times this week, I've lost a lot."

"Well, if you don't want to talk about what you've lost, let's talk about what you still have. Your friends, for example? One of them, Remus Lupin, turns twenty this Monday, does he not?"

Sirius snorted. "Like hell I'm going to visit him."

"It sounds like he's one of the people you're angry at," Clara pointed out. "Do you want to tell me why?"

Sirius' jaw clenched. "Not particularly."

"Do you like being angry, Sirius?"

"Of course I don't!" Sirius exploded. "I hate it! But it's not like I can control my feelings, or forget all the stuff he's done – " He abruptly cut himself off.

For several seconds, Clara just looked at him. Then, she said: "No one is asking you to forget anything, Sirius. But perhaps, the first step to getting rid of your anger is to forgive." She held up a hand to stop Sirius' protest. "Visit your friend on his birthday this Monday, and we will meet again on Tuesday and see how it went. I don't think it will be as bad as you believe. Like I said, I think it would be good for you to get out. Live in the now, Sirius, and not the past."

* * *

Buffy took a deep breath. She had postponed reading the _Vampyr – Tales & Legends _book for the past two days. Oh, she'd read through the table of contents, the introduction, and skimmed through five or so chapters she'd found interesting...but the chapter she really wanted to read – the one about the Slayer myth and origins – she had avoided.

The truth was, she was somewhat afraid. Afraid of what she'd find out about herself, and at the same time, afraid she wouldn't find out anything she couldn't have guessed or already knew. And also, this book referred to the Slayer-myth in this universe – could she really trust the information applied to her, considering the fact that she was from another dimension entirely?

But she had to find out. She had to.

Buffy took another deep breath, and then turned page 735. On page 736, the chapter title stared up at her in bold lettering: _'The Slayer of Vampyrs.'_

'_There have been many rumours about the Slayer of Vampyrs throughout time and early history, and there have even been recoveries of ancient records believed to have referenced to this mythical warrior. However, no records dating post the 15__th__ century have been found, and as such, it is believed that even if there once was such a thing as a Slayer, she no longer exists, other than in legend, folklore and children stories. Below is a short fairytale about the possible origins of the Slayer, translated from Sumerian:'_

'_The Earth is so big," Sineya thought to herself, as she stared out over the desert from the top of her favourite spot, a large grey boulder. All her life, the desert had been her home. She lived at the very edge of it__ in a small village, along with her parents; her mother and her father. 'And dangerous.' Often, there were sandstorms, but they did not scare her. Instead, the very wildness of it made her feel strong and alive. But sometimes, she could hear sounds in the night, sounds that did not belong in a desert, and they always made her shudder.'_

Buffy let an eyebrow rise. The other chapters she had skimmed through had been informative only, straight to the point, like a school textbook. But this sounded like the beginning of a story. If she was to be completely honest with herself, Buffy had half-expected the chapter to begin with 'in every generation there is a Chosen One.' But then again, maybe the fact that the Slayer myth was written like it was fiction wasn't so strange after all, since it had ended up being used as a bedtime story for children. She began to read again.

'_As Sineya sat there, daydreaming, night slowly fell and the air became colder. Sineya stood up and jumped down from the large boulder and began to head home. When Sineya entered the small house, she barely held back a scream as she saw the bodies of her parents on the floor, dead, with their life-blood spread out in pools around them._

_Eyes wide in fear, she then noticed three men, almost concealed in the shadows, and in her heart, she named them the shadow men. They turned to her as one. "__She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness," one of the men, wearing a red hat, spoke. Sineya felt afraid as she stared at the men, to her parents, and back again. Slowly, she began to back away._

"_We did not hurt your parents, and we will not hurt you," the second man, who had a black hat, said. "Shadows took your parents on this night. They will take no one again."_

_The first man spoke again, and Sineya noticed now that he was holding a box in his hands. "Instead, they will provide."_

"_And you will offer," a third man in a brown hat told Sineya, and tapped his stave against the ground, once. The girl's eyes fell closed and she slumped to the ground. _

_The second man lifted the girl into his arms. "Behold the sacrifice whose innocence will stop the guilty. The darkness. The carnage." The three men exited the small house and began to walk away into the night, Sineya lying limply in the second man's arms.'_

Here, Buffy had to stop reading, and she shuddered. "Sineya..." she whispered to herself. She had no doubt now that the story she was reading was about the very first Slayer – how she came to be. "She was just a girl..." And so was she, Buffy remembered sadly. Suddenly, she knew with certainty that this story applied to her world as well. She didn't know how, she just had a feeling. _"Innocence will stop the guilty,"_ Buffy repeated softly to herself. "But only at the cost of said innocence." At that moment, Buffy experienced extreme anger at the men who had destroyed her life by dooming her to a fate she hadn't asked for.

'_Sineya woke up with her arms tied, the three men standing in front of her in a circle, tapping their staves against the ground with rhythmic sounds.__ Around her, there was nothing but sand. She was surrounded by the desert, on all sides, and for the first time in her life, it did not bring her any comfort. "What do you want from me?" she asked._

"_You will fight the darkness," the man in the red hat said. "And you will defeat it." He brought forwards the box._

"_It will live within you. Around you. It will give you pain, and the pain will give you strength." The man in the brown hat said. "It will wake your fury." _

_The man in the red hat brought the box into the centre of the circle and opened it. "Herein lies your truest strength."_

_The man in the black hat spoke. "The energy of the demon. Its spirit." _

"_Its heart," the man in the brown hat continued._

_Sineya's eyes were fixated at the box, from which black smoke came out in long tendrils and began to dance around the circle. She wanted to scream, but found that she was unable to utter a single sound. The men kept tapping their staves rhythmically against the ground._

"_One world," the first shadow man spoke._

"_One girl," the second said._

"_One Chosen," the third said, and the black smoke began to move faster, seemingly almost sentient._

"_No!" Sineya began to struggle against the bonds that held her, but was unable to break free. Her eyes darted around desperately._

_The first shadow man, the one in the red hat, stared at her with dark, grave eyes. "This will make you ready for the fight. Do not fight it. Are you ready to be strong?"_

_The smoke headed towards Sineya and entered her, and she let out a scream of pain, grief and anger, and she fell unconscious, but no oblivion awaited her. Instead, her head became filled with images, of creatures that should be impossible, that shouldn't exist. And yet, they did, and they had come before men, and were intent on destroying them. _

_Slowly, Sineya woke, and her eyes were cold and dark. There was no light inside, just a terrible knowledge of what had been, of what was, and that which was yet to come. All the innocence in her was gone, extinguished forever in exchange for understanding and power. _

_The shadow men smiled. "One Slayer," they chanted as one, and their staves impacted with the ground one more time, before the rhythm fell ominously silent. And the Slayer broke free from her bonds.'_

Buffy slammed the book shut. She felt sick, like she had to throw up. Her power came at the expense of an innocent girl, and it came from the essence of a demon, the very thing she was destined to fight against. Dumbledore had mentioned once that in the Slayer myth, her powers came from a demon, but while Buffy had been quite shaken by that, she hadn't really believed it. But here it was, in black and white, confirmed. That is, if the story was true – and there was no reason to think it wasn't.

But it wasn't really the origins of the powers that upset her, as awful as it was, but rather the way the shadow men had treated the first Slayer: like her life, her sense of self, had been worth nothing. How was that in any way right? A tear fell from her eye, and then another. Before she knew it, tears were falling from her eyes, fast and furious, and she was unable to stop them from coming.

"Buffy?" Remus entered the room, a frown between his eyes. "I sensed your distress...are you alright? Hey...you're crying." Remus out a hand on her shoulder and Buffy threw him a weak smile.

"I'm okay," Buffy said, placing her own hand over his, squeezing it lightly. "Just feeling a little down, that's all."

Remus glanced at the book on the table. "That's a thick book."

"Yeah..." Buffy sighed.

"A...sad book?"

"That too," Buffy mumbled, wiping her eyes.

"_Vampyr – Tales & Legends..._it doesn't sound like a sad book," Remus noted cautiously.

Buffy chuckled. "I didn't think so either. Here I was, thinking I'd find out some stuff about the Slayer. And I did, it just wasn't quite what I was expecting. Hell, I don't even know what I was expecting."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Remus asked.

"Am I a good person, Re?" Buffy asked abruptly, and Remus looked taken aback.

"Of course you are."

"And to fight the forces of darkness...being the Slayer...that's a good thing too, right?" Buffy questioned him.

"Well, I think so, yes," Remus answered.

Buffy shook her head. "Page 736," was all she said, and then, she waited, as Remus opened the book and read the chapter about the Slayer to himself. When he was done, he slowly closed the book, his eyes filled with sympathy as he looked at Buffy.

"The powers of the Slayer come from the essence of a demon," Buffy said, her eyes pained. "Essence that a trio of shadow men – that I think were meant to represent the first Watchers – imbued into a teenage girl. I always thought that being the Slayer was something good, but now - "

" - Buffy," Remus interrupted. "You're a good person. And it doesn't matter where your powers come from: the only thing that matters is what you do with them. And you do _great _things, Buffy. Don't ever doubt that."

"It's not where the powers come from that upsets me, not really! It's how the shadow men used the first Slayer for their own ends, without any care for her feelings! They destroyed her life!" Buffy exclaimed. "And yeah, I understand the world needed a Slayer, but they didn't even give her a choice! And I didn't get one either," she added, more quietly, her shoulders slumping.

"And that's what's really bothering you," Remus noted.

"Is that so weird?" Buffy asked. "It feels like I've never had a choice when it comes to the life-changing stuff. It just isn't fair. Maybe it's selfish of me, considering how much good I've been able to do by being the Slayer, but I just can't help but wish it would have happened to someone else sometimes. I don't want to be used, Re. Not by fate and not by anyone else either. And I hate feeling useless and I hate this war and I hate that Samantha's dead and Mandy's gone and everything is so messed up! It feels like someone up there is enjoying our pain and has fun pushing us around like their personal chess-pawns!"

For several seconds, Remus was silent. Then, he spoke again: "Then fight back. Show whoever's up there that you make your own choices, and that you're in control of your own feelings and actions."

"And the first step to that is...?" Buffy asked.

"The first step to that is to stop being afraid of yourself and your powers," Remus said. "That you accidentally killed that Death Eater is awful, but it's time for you to let that go, and instead go out there and show the world what Buffy Summers can _really_ do. Go out there, and show _everyone_ that you don't back down, and more importantly, show it to yourself. Buffy Summers," Remus looked into his girlfriend's eyes, remembering a sentence from the story. "Are you ready to be strong?"

* * *

**8 March**

Lily was lying down on the sofa in hers and James' living room, half asleep. She was finding it more difficult to sleep through the night, not only because she couldn't find a comfortable position due to her ever growing stomach, but also because of general restlessness, itching skin and a weird fluttering in her belly: she just couldn't manage to relax at night. As a result, she found herself dozing off during the day, even voluntarily taking naps.

Lily had almost managed to drift off when she felt that weird fluttering again, startling her awake. Letting out a long-suffering sigh at her traitorous body, she placed a hand against her stomach, and closed her eyes in another attempt to get some much needed rest. But once again the fluttering returned before she could drift off, slightly sharper, more insistent, and this time, Lily's eyes practically flew open in sudden realisation.

She remembered the information from the pregnancy books she'd been reading about the baby's development and happiness and excitement bubbled up inside her as she understood: it wasn't her body that was causing the feeling in her stomach - it was the baby. "James!" She yelled out, eyes shining.

"What is it?" James entered the room, an alarmed look crossing his face when he saw Lily's shocked expression. "Is something wrong?"

Lily shook her head quickly. "No...James...the baby – he's moving!"

"How do you know it's a he?" James asked dumbly, the entirety of Lily's statement not sinking in.

"Call it a mother's intuition, if you want," Lily said, rather impatiently. "But didn't you hear me? Boy or girl, it doesn't matter, but the baby moved!"

Finally, James got it. "You mean...the baby's kicking?" He hurried forward, settling himself down beside Lily, hazel eyes wide.

"Yes!" Lily laughed, tears of joy escaping her eyes. She let out a gasp as she felt the flutter again, several times in quick succession, like the littlest Potter was just as excited as she was. "Just feel for yourself!" She grabbed James wrist, pressing his palm tightly against the place on her belly where she could feel the movements strongest.

James looked down at her stomach in amazement – to him, the movements were barely noticeable, but they were definitely there: there baby was definitely moving. "He's kicking," he breathed out, tears filling his eyes as well.

Lily beamed at him. "He's so strong and insistent," she said, when she felt yet another flutter, like a butterfly flapping its powerful wings. She leaned forward until her forehead was resting against James. "Just like his daddy."

James stared into her green eyes, his expression filled with love and adoration. "No," he disagreed. "Just like his mummy."

* * *

**10 March**

"I'll get it," Remus shouted at Buffy as he heard a knock on the door. He was quite surprised, since everyone he expected to come to his birthday party that Buffy had insisted on throwing – Lily, James, Frank, Alice, Eliza, Caradoc, Marlene, the Prewett twins and Dorcas – had already arrived. Opening the door, his mild surprise turned into outright shock when he saw the person standing there. "Sirius," he muttered. "I wasn't expecting you to come..."

Sirius snorted. "Yeah, to be honest, neither did I," he said dryly. "Can we talk?"

Remus nodded. "Of course." He stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

"I'm not sorry," were the first words out of Sirius' mouth, and Remus let an eyebrow rise, but otherwise didn't react. "I'm not sorry for the stuff I said after the battle when Mandy was...taken. And I'm not sorry for what I said after the meeting on Valentine's Day either. Just so you know."

Remus nodded thoughtfully. "Well...I'm not sorry for what _I _said after the meeting on Valentine's Day either. Just so you know."

Sirius paused in his steps. "Are you mocking me?" He asked, voice low and tense.

Remus sighed. "No, Sirius, I'm not. I'm just not apologising for the stuff I said, just as you're not either. Because obviously, we both feel we were right."

Sirius nodded sharply. "Well...good. Just so we know where we stand." He began walking again. "Anyway, the reason I'm here...well, it's the fault of my therapist, really."

It was Remus' turn to stand still. "Your...therapist?" He asked slowly.

"James hasn't told you? Moody is forcing me to see a mind-healer before he lets me back on active duty."

"Oh," Remus muttered, beginning to walk again. "Uhh...is it helping?"

Sirius snorted. "To be honest, I have no idea."

"Oh," Remus said again. The two had reached the end of the gravel road in front of the Lupin cottage, and this time, both stopped. "So your therapist forced you to come here?"

"It was more of a strong suggestion, really," Sirius said. "Seemed to think visiting my friend was the first step to getting rid of my anger. Not that I'm sure you're my friend anymore." He glanced at Remus through the corner of his eye.

"Even if I'm not your friend, Padfoot, you're still mine," Remus said, voice quiet but honest.

Sirius chuckled humourlessly. "Merlin, Moons," he muttered, looking up at the night sky. "You have no idea how difficult it is to stay angry at you when you're acting like this."

Remus gave him a confused look. "Acting like what?"

"Like yourself," Sirius said wryly. "Shit." He dragged a hand over his face. "And I was so determined to keep hating you."

"Sorry," Remus lips twitched. "Is there anything I can do? To make you keep hating me?"

Sirius barked out a laugh. "Not on purpose."

Remus nodded thoughtfully. "If I do something not-on-purpose to make you feel that way...could you please tell me?" He asked cautiously. "It's been awful, walking around wondering what I've done to make you despise me."

"I can't promise that," Sirius said. "But I guess I'll try." The two marauders exchanged tired, but amused, looks.

"That's all I ask. Well, that, and for you to come inside with me, celebrate with the others, apologize to James and Lily for your outburst when they told you what's probably the greatest news in their lives, and accept their offer to let you become Godfather."

"A tall order," Sirius noted. "But I do owe them an apology. As for the Godfather thing..."

"Don't you dare say no," Remus told him. "You'll make a great Godfather. I know it. And so do James and Lily, otherwise, they wouldn't have asked."

Sirius shook his head. "Responsibility and I don't mix – "

" – Don't think of it as a responsibility, then," Remus interrupted. "Think of it as an honour – not a duty. And you're as good as James' brother. There's no one else who could do the job better."

"I'll consider it," Sirius said, and Remus knew that was the best he'd get from Sirius today.

"You do that," Remus said. "Ask your therapist," he added after a short pause.

Sirius playfully punched his shoulder, lips twitching. "Oh, put a sock in it, would you?"

* * *

"Hi, Sirius," Eliza greeted, and he looked over at the French girl in surprise. He could honestly say he had never talked to Eliza for any length of time. Remus had commented once that she seemed slightly lonely, and had prompted the marauders to try to get to know her, especially since she was in their age. But with all the other things on his mind, Sirius had forgotten all about it, and slowly, Eliza had grown close to Caradoc instead. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know, living," Sirius said humourlessly.

"I think you made a lot of people happy by showing up," Eliza commented, looking out over the living room. Everyone was there, laughing and chatting – Lily was just re-entering the room, probably having been on another bathroom break. Both she and Alice were getting to be rather big around the waist. "Especially Remus, James and Lily."

"Hmm," Sirius said. "Well, I did owe James and Lily an apology for being an arse about the baby. And Remus..." he sighed. "With Remus, things are slightly more complicated."

"But you were talking before, outside, yes?" Eliza asked.

"And no one was more surprised than me that we were able to do so civilly," Sirius said, and Eliza laughed lightly.

"Friendship is a wonderful thing, Sirius. It can overcome most obstacles if it's true."

"Well, that's the thing...I'm not sure it is."

Eliza threw him a curious look, but Sirius didn't divulge anything else, and the Order-member decided to let it go. "Well, I am not certain of what went wrong between you, but you should give him a chance, no?"

Sirius smiled slightly. "Yeah. So I can't say I know much about you, other than the fact that you like to take photos...?"

"It is a hobby of mine," Eliza nodded. "Well, there isn't much to say, really. I left my father and France after Graduation to help in the war here, since my mother was killed because of it." Her eyes darkened slightly, and Sirius looked at her, startled. He had forgotten about that, and suddenly, he realised he was talking with someone who really understood what it was like to lose someone you cared about – to lose family.

"I imagine you must feel angry," he said and Eliza shook her head, dark hair flying.

Eliza shook her head. "Not anymore. At first, I felt despair. The anger came right after that. But now, I just want this war to end, so we can bring those responsible to justice."

"Justice..." Sirius whispered. "I'm not sure I believe in that anymore."

"Why not?" Eliza cocked her head to the side, curious. "I thought you were an Auror? Do you not trust in the system?"

"It's not the system I don't trust, though that has its faults well," Sirius said. "But life isn't fair, and things rarely work out the way we want." He sounded bitter.

"It is hard to stay positive at times," Eliza admitted.

"At times?" Sirius snorted. "Try nearly all the time. I just wonder when all this shit will end, when all the losses will stop."

"Someday it will. It's why I fight. At first, I wanted to do it to get revenge on my mother's killer," Eliza said. "But now, it is to keep families from being ripped apart like mine was, to try and keep the losses to a minimum." She glanced at Sirius. "I know if we stop fighting, the losses would be many, many more."

"I just wish the losses wouldn't hit so close to home," Sirius said.

Eliza gave him a compassionate look. "I know exactly what you mean. Let's promise something, though."

"What?" Sirius asked.

"To not give up," Eliza answered. "To not stop fighting, no matter how much, or how many, we lose. We can't let life bring us down, even if it...what's the word...sucks?"

Sirius slowly nodded, and looked at her gravely. "Deal."

* * *

**15 March**

"Lago di Bolsena," Voldemort muttered to himself from the shore as he stared out over the still waters. "Lake Bolsena." The Dark Lord was in Italy, in search of a second clue, alone this time. He would not trust anyone else to find the clue for him. His ultimate goal to find the power-source would be known to no one else but himself. It was night-time in the country, and the shore was abandoned.

Taking out his wand, the Dark Lord placed all the charms necessary on himself: one that allowed him to breathe underwater without any impairments caused by oxygen pressure due to the depth of the lake, one made sure he'd be able to see underwater no matter how dark it became, and one that would protect him from any unexpected traps in the lake's murky depths.

Then, Voldemort slowly levitated himself out across the lake, until he came to the exact middle. There, he cancelled the levitation charm, and with a slight splash, he fell into the dark waters. Another silent spell allowed him to simply sink downwards, without any swimming necessary to reach the bottom. A second silent charm would make sure to alert him when he approached anything magical in origin, and as he sank down, the Dark Lord couldn't help the expectation rising in his chest. He was so close…

Near the very bottom of the lake, his wand jerked slightly in his hand, and the Dark Lord put a stop to the spell that made him sink. Alert, red eyes stared at the surroundings. A few feet ahead, something was shimmering, pulsing in the water, and slowly, Voldemort swam towards it. There seemed to be a shimmering magical wall within the water, made up of tiny, near invisible bubbles. Every now and then, a bubble would break apart, followed by several others, and then, they would reform.

After observing the wall for a long time, the Dark Lord slowly began to smile as he realised the bubbles were forming patterns, symbols, in the emptiness that were left behind in the wall as they ruptured. The symbols were the same as those he had observed in the cave when he had taken that house-elf there.

Lifting his wand, Voldemort did a charm that caused a burst of strong air impact with the wall. The bubbles flashed, and then, tendrils of light seemed to stretch out from the other side of the bubbles and as they surrounded him, pain erupted in his every nerve, and he was suddenly reminded of why he had brought the house-elf to the cave: so he wouldn't have to expose himself to this sort of thing.

Gritting his teeth, Voldemort cast a numbing spell on himself, but it didn't seem to have any effects – instead, the pain became even worse. Now, it wasn't just the tendrils surrounding him, but the bubbles too, spinning faster and faster around him like a tornado. If he hadn't been the Dark Lord, and Dark Lords _did not pass out,_ he would surely have fallen unconscious from the pain burning in his every vein – it felt like his blood was boiling. And then, the bubbles and tendrils joined as one, shooting upwards, and there was a flash of light, and it was over.

Blinking slightly, the Dark Lord spun around within the water, looking for the clue he'd been searching for, something looking like the rock that he had gotten from the cave. But there was nothing. Just him and the water. Furious, the Dark Lord did another spell that made him shoot up towards, and he broke the surface with a loud splash...and came face to face with an orb that looked radiant in the dark, hovering above the lake.

It looked like a large bubble, surrounded by thin tendrils of light. Voldemort's fury turned to a sense of victory, of accomplishment, as he slowly took the sphere into his hand. The surface was cool and smooth, like glass, and the tendrils cast a glow on his pale skin. Inside the bubble, he could see several smaller bubbles, and every now and then, one of them would rupture, and then reform. The Dark Lord smiled. He had what he came for.

* * *

**20 March**

Severus and Dorcas stared at each other in silence. Severus looked furious, while Dorcas looked rather uncomfortable with the situation. "I'm sorry – " she began awkwardly, but was immediately cut off by Severus:

" – Don't. Just forget about it. And don't let it happen again."

"I'm not sure what the big deal is," Dorcas stated, sounding a bit put off as she watched Severus stand up and begin to get dressed. "It didn't mean anything. It was just in the heat of the moment. Don't read anything into it – "

Severus whirled around, his dark eyes angry. "Believe me, I am not. For your sake, I truly _hope_ it didn'tmean anything. Do _not_ develop _feelings _for me, Meadowes. It will not lead you down a pretty road. If I get so much as another _inkling_ that this – " he gestured between them meaningfully " – is becoming anything more to you than a mutually beneficial arrangement, it will end, and so will our agreement. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Dorcas muttered, slowly beginning to pull on her clothes. "Still, I think you're overreacting. And you wouldn't have unless it meant something to _you."_

"Don't be ridiculous," Severus spat. "I do not feel _anything _towards you – "

" – And I'm not claiming you do," Dorcas interrupted. "But you do have feelings. For Lily. And I can't help but think that when I called you 'Sev' – "

" – Shut up!" Severus hissed.

" – It hit a sore spot with you," Dorcas continued, undeterred. "It's what she called you, isn't it?"

Severus' jaw clenched. "Spare me your theories, Meadowes," he said coldly, but his voice trembled slightly. "Just make your report, and then _leave."_

Dorcas only stared at him for several seconds. "Very well," she finally said. "If that's what you wish – "

" – It is," Severus said coldly, pushing away the pain he felt in his heart and the memories trying to influence his thoughts.

"Sirius has been rather..._depressed _since what happened to Mandy Walker," Dorcas began and threw a glare at Severus – it was clear she felt that Severus was at least partly responsible for Mandy's fate, since he had refused to do anything to help when Dorcas had asked. However, it was just as clear Snape could care less. "He's seeing a mind-healer." Severus burst out laughing. "Oh, you're horrible! It's not funny!" Dorcas hissed. "If it was Lily, I doubt you'd be doing any better!" Severus' laughter abruptly cut off. "I know you don't like Sirius, but try to put yourself in his shoes – "

" – I'd rather not," Severus interrupted with a sneer. "And _'don't like'_ is far too mild a description for what I feel towards that dim-witted, arrogant Gryffindor." Dorcas rolled her eyes. "Do you not have anything else to report?"

Dorcas sighed. "Sirius and Remus have been at odds, but they seem to have made up, at least for now. And Lily – " Dorcas paused.

" – Yes?" Severus asked impatiently. "Get to it, Meadowes. You know information about Lily is what I truly want. And I admit, while not rich in quantity, because of the amusement your information about Black caused, if the information of Lily is satisfying, that will be enough to keep me from turning you in to the Dark Lord, for, say...a few more months. Then I will want something _truly _worthwhile if you want me to keep up our bargain."

"Really?" Dorcas said sarcastically. "A few months? That's a mighty long time. How generous of you."

Severus looked amused. "I am aware. You amuse me, Dorcas. And you are a decent bed-partner and conversationalist. Our little deal is keeping me entertained, and as long as it continues to, and you keep up your end, I am..._unlikely_ to turn you in."

"I'm truly honoured," Dorcas said dryly.

"You were going to say something about Lily?"

"Yes. But I'm not sure it will make you pleased."

"Let me be the judge of that," Severus said sharply.

"Fine. Lily is deliriously happy," Dorcas stated. "The baby has started moving, and Lily is getting rather big around the waist. She is practically glowing with joy, as is James. He couldn't be more proud or loving. If there's such a thing as a perfect couple, they are it."

Severus swallowed heavily. "No sign of discontent, then?" He muttered, almost to himself.

"None whatsoever," Dorcas said, and if she sounded a little gleeful...well, Severus couldn't really blame her.

* * *

**27 March**

"Dumbledore, a word," Moody prompted, and the leader of the Order turned an inquisitive look at the seasoned Auror.

"Alastor?" It was the end of an Order meeting, that had been combined with a small celebration of James Potter's birthday, and the Headmaster was feeling quite pleased with the progress made. For one, it seemed Sirius was finally out of his slump – he had actively participated and even volunteered for a mission.

"It's about Black," Moody said, once the two had exited the room. "I don't think you should send him on that mission."

Dumbledore frowned. "Why not? He is more than capable of shadowing Lucius Malfoy for a few days. You know Dorcas position has not yet yielded as much result as I'd hoped..."

"It's not his magical ability I doubt," Moody said sharply. "It's his mental stability I worry about. If Black lets his personal feelings get in the way – "

" – I trust Sirius to do a good job," Dumbledore interrupted mildly. "You saw him today. He is back to his old self."

Moody snorted. "He might be getting there, but he is far from the Sirius Black we both know, and what's more, you know it. However, he's always been a very emotional person, and while he's slowly getting over what happened to Walker, this mission may set him back!"

Dumbledore sighed. "I doubt it, Alastor. Trust me on this."

"You don't always know best, Albus," Moody said grimly. "Remember that."

"I am aware," Dumbledore said mildly. "But in this, I am right. Sirius does not need any differential treatment. He is not someone who likes to be coddled."

"I said nothing of _coddling _him," Moody said sharply. "I'm just saying that maybe we should give him some more time before throwing him into action again. I removed him active Auror-duty for a reason, you know, and if you don't do the same when it comes to Order duty, it kind of defeats the entire purpose!"

"Then perhaps it is time you reinstate him," Dumbledore said with a slight smile. And without waiting for a spluttering Moody to answer, the Headmaster apparated away.

Moody's good eye twitched in annoyance. "Sometimes, talking to that man is worse than talking to a brick-wall, for all the good it does."

* * *

_**Published: **08/09 -11_

* * *

**Trivia**

- The Slayer myth is something I built based on the episode in BTVS s. 7: _Get it Done_, in which Dawn reads a story in Sumerian about the origins of the First Slayer, and Buffy's subsequent confrontation with the Shadow Men. We also know from Restless that the First Slayer was called Daughter of Sineya (thereof the name 'Sineya).  
- Lake Bolsena (Lago di Bolsena) is a crater lake of volcanic origin that can be found in central Italy, with a maximum depth of 495 feet.  
- In _The Prince's Tale_ from _HP & the Deathly Hallows_, we learn from some of Snape's memories that Lily used to call him Sev.


	7. Out

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**28 March**

Sirius was bored. When he had volunteered for the mission to shadow Lucius Malfoy, he had imagined it would be at least somewhat _dangerous,_ not yawn-worthy. The man had done absolutely nothing interesting for the past two hours; for someone who had such high status in the Wizarding World and was also one of Voldemort's high-level Death Eaters, his life seemed spectacularly ordinary.

So far, Lucius had done nothing but shop in Diagon Alley. First, he had travelled down to his vault, presumably to get some money (that had been the only place Sirius hadn't been able to follow him to). Then, he had bought some potions ingredients in the Apothecary, none of which were the slightest bit illegal or suspicious. Thirdly, he had picked up a few female robes – that seemed to be in Narcissa's style – from Madame Malkin's. After that, he had joined a couple of people for dinner in a corner of the Leaky Cauldron – all of whom actually _were _upstanding citizens, and not just pretending to be.

It wasn't that Sirius wanted there to be danger – not really. Or, yes, he did, but that was completely understandable, Sirius told himself. After all, he wasn't allowed on active Auror duty, so he had to get his kicks from somewhere, right? Unfortunately, it seemed his attempt had failed. Miserably.

"Merlin, I need to get the fun parts of my job back," Sirius muttered to himself. "Doing paperwork sucks."

* * *

**11 April**

"Please. I'm begging you on my well-clad knees here!" Sirius exclaimed, looking up at his mind-healer, Clara Dermont, who only stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Please tell Moody I'm ready to return to active duty. I need some action, like right now, or I'm going to kill myself. I'm just joking about that, by the way," he hastily added. Having been seeing Clara for awhile now, he was pretty certain she'd take that statement all too seriously and start psychoanalyse him even further. "And I am ready. I'm beyond ready."

Clara stared down at him, face expressionless. "Please, stand up, Sirius," she said, and Sirius hastily got to his feet.

"I think I've made a lot of progress during these sessions of ours. I'm more than well enough to go back to work."

"That's up to me to decide," Clara said, crossing her legs and motioning for Sirius to sit. "Let's talk about Mandy Walker. She has always been difficult for you to talk about."

Sirius swallowed and looked away. "That's because what happened to her...to us...still hurts." He took a deep breath. "I miss her. Every day, and every second, and it is a constant battle for me to not just...stop caring about everything and everyone else. It's why I was sent to you, remember?"

"Yes, I am aware," Clara said, flipping the page in Sirius' file.

"Look...I was in a bad place," Sirius said. "And I might still fall back into it. But Mandy would have wanted me to live, really live, and that is more than incentive enough for me to try. But the only way I can, is if I go back to my life. And going to therapy didn't use to be an everyday occurrence."

"Is that your diplomatic way of saying you want to get out of my sight?" Clara's lips twitched, and Sirius threw his hands up.

"Yes!"

"Well, you have made a lot of progress, Sirius, I agree."

Sirius blinked. "You do?"

Clara smiled. "Yes. You have made quite a lot of progress, and as such, I am willing to tell Alastor you are ready to return to Auror-training. However," she leaned forward, "if you ever need to talk, to someone neutral, or find yourself slipping back into depression, you know where my office is."

"Thank you," Sirius let out a loud sigh of relief, and grinned at her. "And until then – if there is a then – I'll make sure to walk straight past it."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Clara stated dryly.

* * *

**14 April**

Dorcas was slowly walking towards Voldemort's throne room to attend one of his Death Eater meetings, when she heard voices coming from ahead. She carefully paused in her steps, and began to listen to the conversation, hoping she would overhear something that could help the Order.

"…I'm telling you, the Dark Lord is hiding something big from us," a voice that Dorcas recognised as Rosier Sr. said. "And I don't like it. He used to confide in us all the time but now he's being very secretive."

Dorcas eyes narrowed.

"It's got something to do with his trip to Italy last month and that cartographer," Travers said.

"Yeah, what was that all about? And what else does he need that man for anyway?" Avery Sr. was the next to speak. "Travers, you're in charge of guarding the man – haven't you found out anything?"

"Nothing," Travers answered. "At all. I believe Rosier is right – this is regarding something big. Have you heard anything, Lucius?"

"No," Lucius Malfoy said, sounding quite displeased about that. "The Dark Lord is being unusually tight-lipped about all of his plans, even to me. Has he confided in your wife, Rodolphus?"

Dorcas eyebrows rose. Well, this was interesting...it seemed nearly all of the top Death Eaters had gathered for some sort of secret council.

"No, Bellatrix knows nothing, and that is more than strange," Rodolphus said. "She had a hissy fit about it just last week." The Death Eaters all chuckled. "But perhaps the Dark Lord is right to remain silent," Rodolphus continued. "Loyalty isn't what it used to be."

"Surely you aren't accusing one of us – " Avery exclaimed, offended.

" – No," Rodolphus interrupted with a snort. "But after Regulus Black's betrayal, it is no wonder he is being more cautious than usual."

"Hmm…yes. His death was well deserved." Lucius spoke, and Dorcas eyes widened. She knew Sirius had suspected his little brother was dead, but now, it was proven. She really didn't relish telling him that, but he deserved to know.

Footsteps approached, and Dorcas tensed. "Ah, Severus," Lucius greeted and Dorcas swallowed. "We were just talking about Regulus Black's demise. You were rather close to him, were you not?"

"Somewhat," Severus said coldly. "Of course, I had no idea he was planning on betraying the Dark Lord. I am astounded that he thought he could get away with it. It seems I was wrong in thinking he was actually of some worth, unlike his brother."

Lucius chuckled. "Ah. Sirius Black. There is no love lost between you to, is there?"

"None whatsoever," Severus agreed.

"I've heard the Dark Lord has given you the honour of getting to be the one to kill him," Avery said, and Dorcas barely held back a sharp gasp.

"You would be correct," Severus said.

Several seconds of silence commenced. "And?" Travers asked. "What are your plans?"

Severus tutted. "Do not be so impatient, Travers. It is important not to be too hasty. And since revenge is a dish best served cold, I want to savour the thought of it, and am taking my time in planning his final demise. However, my plans have been temporarily put on hold. Black is so torn up over his girlfriend's fate that death would probably be a mercy at this point. No. I will want to strike when he has recovered from his loss and when he least expects it."

The Death Eaters laughed cruelly. "You're one mean bastard, Snape," Rodolphus said appreciatively.

"I will take that as a compliment," Severus said dryly. "Still, as stupid as Black can be, he is not to be underestimated. Nor the Order he's a member of."

Dorcas could hear the Death Eaters make murmuring sounds of agreement.

"And speaking of that darn organisation," Lucius said, sounding disgusted, "I can barely go anywhere without an Order-member trailing me. For example, Black tried it two weeks ago. He thought he was being discreet, but I knew he was there."

"You didn't do anything to raise his suspicions I hope?" Travers asked.

"Who do you take me for; a fool?" Lucius asked derisively. "Please. I only let him follow me around Diagon Alley, _shopping – _like I would normally do something so utterly mundane." The Death Eaters sniggered. "Still, it is annoying, for I always have to look over my shoulder. It makes it darn difficult to actually do the things I'm supposed to do."

"Those Blacks," Rosier shook his head. "More trouble than they're worth."

"_Excu__se me?"_ Both Lucius and Rodolphus chorused, their voices icy.

Rosier chuckled weakly. "With the exception of the lovely Narcissa and Bellatrix, of course," he hurriedly said, and coughed uncomfortably. "We should probably get to the Death Eater meeting. It is supposed to start soon."

"You're lucky the Dark Lord is expecting our presence, or I would curse you," Rodolphus grumbled. "Or have Bellatrix do it." Dorcas held her breath as she heard them began to walk away, Rosier muttering apologies, their footsteps slowly fading. She waited a few more seconds, before she followed, her heart thundering in her chest.

* * *

"_Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"_ Three stunning curses left Sirius' wand in rapid succession, each hitting the dead centre of the target: a round wooden board.

"Good aim, Black," Moody nodded approvingly.

"Thanks," Sirius said grimly, eyes focused as he flicked his wand, sending the targets back a few feet, increasing the distance. _"Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!" _This time, his first spell missed the absolute middle of the board by half an inch, and Sirius' eyes twitched in annoyance.

"Don't get frustrated!" Moody called out to him. "You're doing very well."

Don Blake, the Head Auror, walked up to him and joined Moody in observing Sirius as he continued practicing his aim. "How is he doing?" He asked quietly.

"Good," Moody said gruffly. "He seems calmer. More focused."

"The therapy with Dermont was a success, then?" Blake raised an eyebrow at him.

"So it seems," Moody muttered. "Still, Black isn't completely the way I remember him."

"No? In which way?" Don asked with a slight frown.

"There's a kind of resolve in him that he lacked before, and a different level of ferocity," Moody observed. "He's darker. But not _dark_...just more purposeful...colder, perhaps."

"Well, some change is to be expected after what happened," Don said. "As long as he doesn't go over the edge again. You'll keep an eye on him, I hope?"

"Of course."

"Good," Don muttered. "The Ministry can't afford to lose any more good people if we're going to win this war."

Moody chuckled. "It's not the Ministry that's going to win the war for us, Donny. It's people like them." He nodded in Sirius' direction, watching as James Potter walked over and slapped Sirius on the back, wide grins on both their faces. "Mark my words."

"Hmm." Don glanced at Moody. "You like them."

"Of course I like them," Moody huffed. "Best potential I've seen since the Longbottoms joined us."

"That's not quite what I meant, even if I agree." Don's lips twitched. "You have a soft spot for them beyond just appreciating their abilities."

Moody let out a long sigh. "That I do, Donny. That I do. They remind me of myself at that age," he continued with a purse of his lips. "Lots of power and bravery that's sometimes bordering on foolish - and little common sense."

"Well, you turned out alright," Don said with a grin and Moody snorted.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer."

* * *

"Nice to have you back, Pads," James said, patting his best friend of the back, grinning.

"Thanks," Sirius said, grinning back.

"I take it the therapist finally gave you the go-ahead?"

"Would I be here if she hadn't?" Sirius asked.

James smirked. "Maybe. Authority hasn't really stopped us before, has it?"

"You have a point," Sirius drawled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to continue practice my aim."

James glanced over at the target boards with a raised eyebrow. "I doubt you need much more practice," he said.

Sirius smiled grimly. "You can never have too much practice."

* * *

**18**** April**

"Hey, Sirius, could I have a word?" Dorcas wondered, touching Sirius' arm gently after the day's Order meeting ended. "In private?"

Sirius frowned at the pretty red-head. "Sure," he muttered, walking over to a corner. "What is it?"

Dorcas bit her lip, glancing around nervously. "Well, Dumbledore hasn't told the Order because he's afraid of a leak, but I'm the...spy in the Death Eater ranks."

Sirius' eyebrows rose. "Alright."

"Yeah." Dorcas smiled nervously. "Anyway, a few days ago, I happened to overhear some of You-Know-Who's top agents talking...about you and your brother."

Sirius paled and noticeably stiffened. "What did they say?" He asked through gritted teeth, his heart thumping wildly.

"Well...first of all, it seems Malfoy knew you were following him."

Sirius glared at her. It might be more important for the Order to know that he hadn't been cautious enough when he'd been trailing Malfoy, but that didn't matter to him. Not right now - he wanted to hear about his brother! "I don't care about that! What about Regulus?" Sirius asked with a hiss, and Dorcas flinched at his tone.

"I'm getting to that. But before I tell you, there's something else you should know. You-Know-Who has given the all-clear for your death."

Sirius let an eyebrow rise, slightly more interested. "Really?"

"Yes. And he has given the honour specifically to an old...acquaintance of yours. Snape."

"_Snivellus?"_ Sirius asked, incredulous.

"Yes," Dorcas said, frowning slightly at the derisive nickname. "I would watch my back if I were you."

Sirius snorted. "I'm not worried. I can handle anything that greasy bastard throws at me."

Dorcas shook her head in exasperation. "Sirius – "

" – You had news about my brother," Sirius interrupted, changing back the subject to what he really wanted to know, and Dorcas sighed.

"He's dead," she finally said softly, and Sirius' eyes closed.

So it was confirmed. His little brother was dead. "Do you know how? Or why?" He asked hoarsely.

Dorcas shook her head. "I didn't get any details. All I know is that he betrayed You-Know-Who somehow, and was punished for it."

"With death," Sirius shoulders slumped.

"Yes. I'm sorry," Dorcas said, eyes sympathetic.

"Yeah...me too," Sirius muttered.

* * *

**2 May **

"Hey, Padfoot!" James called over the rapid sound of spell-fire, eyeing the three duelling dummies Sirius was fighting against with narrowed eyes. The Black heir was dripping with sweat, his eyes flashing with anger and determination. The poor dummies were barely holding themselves together, their stuffing falling to the floor in droves whenever one of Sirius' overcharged spells impacted. "Could you take a break for a few seconds?"

Sirius waved his wand at the animated dummies, which immediately stopped moving, and fell to the floor in heaps. A couple of Aurors ran over to repair them. "What is it?" Sirius asked, walking up to James, who frowned at him.

"It's not that I'm not happy to see you so focused, but are you sure you're alright?" James asked him.

Sirius blinked in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't you?" James muttered to himself. "Look, it's great that you're taking your work seriously, but you need to get out a bit."

Sirius stared at his friend. "Get out a bit?" He repeated, laughing incredulously. "James, we're in a _war._ I don't have time for fun and games."

"Then make time," James said firmly. "Whenever you're not at work, or doing missions for the Order, you're sitting at home, alone, doing Merlin knows what. You need a night out: kick back and relax. What do you say? Just you and me, in London, hanging out... Oh, come on!" James exclaimed when he saw Sirius' frown. "You could use a night without responsibilities. War is no reason to stop living. It's been ages since we did something as friends, and not connected to the war."

Sirius sighed. "Alright."

"Great!" James grinned widely, slapping Sirius on the back. "I'll pick you up at seven."

"Wait, tonight?" Sirius sounded alarmed. "Prongs...a little more forewarning would have been – " James just waved a hand at him, already walking away. Sirius glared at his retreating friend's back. Then, a chuckle slipped out. "Does Lily know you're going out tonight?" He yelled after him, and James noticeably froze. Then, he slowly turned back around, giving Sirius a weak smile.

"Well, let's not tell her, alright?" Sirius let an eyebrow rise. "Please, Pads! I'm begging you – I need this night out just as much as you do!" James pleaded, hazel eyes wide and filled with desperation. "Lily has cravings and mood-swings and let's not even talk about the rest! I need a break from home. From her! I love her and all, but I'm a man. I need alone-time! Some man-time! Best friend time! Please!"

Sirius' lips twitched. "So...if she asks whenever I see her next, we were both working overtime tonight?"

"Hell yes!" James exclaimed.

* * *

"So...how have you been?" James asked, later that night. He and Sirius were in a muggle nightclub in London.

"I wasn't aware talking was a part of a kick back and relax night," Sirius drawled, sipping on his beer. "We're not girls."

James glared. "I am well aware of that. That doesn't mean we can't talk. You're my best friend, Pads. But lately... You haven't really been all that approachable since - "

"Don't," Sirius interrupted. "Don't say her name, Prongs. Please."

James held up his hands in defeat. "Alright, I won't."

Sirius sighed. "Talking about..._her _is practically all I've been doing in my therapy sessions. I don't need to do it in my spare-time as well."

"Have they helped?" James asked. "I mean, Dermont cleared you for duty, so they must have, right?"

"Right," Sirius muttered, glancing over at a group of muggle girls he could see giggling and looking in their direction. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just a good actor who managed to fool her and myself. Some days are better than others. And some..."

"At least she's still out there," James commented. "She's still alive."

"Yes, well, I'm not so sure that's helping me any," Sirius admitted. "She's out there but I can't see her or talk to her. Not knowing if she'll ever get her memory back is...it's awful. There's no closure!" Sirius exclaimed, frustrated.

The two shared a few seconds of grave silence. "I worry," James said.

"Yeah, you've mentioned that," Sirius grunted and James glared.

"Not about you, you prat. Or well, you too, but mostly I worry about Lily and the baby."

"Well, Lily's not going to be fighting anymore, is she?" Sirius questioned.

"That doesn't mean she isn't in danger," James answered. "And that's not really what I worry about. I'm scared I won't be a good father."

Sirius blinked. Then, he burst out laughing.

"It's not funny!" James exclaimed.

"Yes, it sort of is!" Sirius said, still chuckling. "Why in Merlin's name would you worry about that? You're going to be a great father!"

James huffed. "I'm not so sure. I mean, my parents were great, but they also spoiled me. Sometimes, I think they loved me a little_ too_ much. I was an idiot at school, and I'm not saying it was their fault, but they never really disciplined me. They let me do whatever I wanted – they probably would have let me get away with murder."

"Well, you turned out alright. But no one's saying you should be your parents or anyone else. Just...do it your way. It's a learning experience, right?"

"Right," James muttered, frowning. "But what if I get a T?"

"As in T for Troll?" Sirius barked out another laugh. "No one is going to grade you! It might be a learning experience, but it isn't school!"

James glared. "Would you stop laughing at me?"

Sirius snorted. "Look, Prongs, I'm not an expert, but it's probably only natural that you're worrying. But you'll do fine. Just strive to find a balance. And you've got Lily. She'll keep you in line. There's two of you and only one kid. How hard can it be?"

James smirked. "Wasn't it you who doubted your ability to be a good Godfather? You tell me."

"That's totally different," Sirius scoffed.

"If you say so," James sing-songed, glancing to his left. "Oh, look sharp. You've got company."

Sirius straightened in his seat, turning to look discreetly at the group of approaching girls, the same group who had been giggling and looking in their direction earlier. "Don't you mean _'we?'_"

"Married, remember?" James grinned, holding up his hand with his wedding ring. A couple of the girls looked disappointed when they spotted it, but they brightened just as quickly, their predatory glances now focused totally on Sirius.

Sirius grimaced. "Throw me to the wolves, why don't you?" He muttered under his breath. "Anyway, I'm not interested."

"I know you're not," James said. "That doesn't mean you can't be _nice. _Make some new friends."

"I doubt friendship is what _they_ have in mind," Sirius muttered, forcing up a wide fake smile as the girls reached their table.

* * *

**3**** May**

"Wake up." James groaned, putting his pillow over his head. Lily's green eyes narrowed dangerously. "I said, wake up. NOW James."

James winced as the pillow was ripped away and bright light reached his sight. "Lils...let me sleep. I worked overtime last night and I'm really tired."

"Oh, yes, drinking yourself into oblivion must be really exhausting," Lily said and James froze, blood-shot hazel eyes slowly blinking open.

"Eh?" He asked unintelligently.

"I am not an idiot," Lily hissed and James winced again, the sound of Lily's voice wreaking havoc on his eardrums, increasing the pounding in his head. "And even if I were, your activities last night would be more than obvious even to a total imbecile when you come stumbling in, SINGING – off-key, I might at - at the top of your lungs, barely capable of keeping yourself standing, at FOUR in the morning! And that's not even mentioning the alcohol I could smell on your breath or the pile of VOMIT on the bathroom floor since you missed the toilet you were aiming for."

James winced. "Lily, please..."

"No," Lily said, incensed. "You are going to get up, right now, clean the bathroom, clean yourself up, and then, you are out of here."

"Out of here?" James asked weakly.

"Yes. You have a lot of grovelling to do, James, and you can start by buying me flowers, chocolate...the works. And I also have a craving for pickles and cream, so you can pick that up as well."

"Pickles...and cream?" James repeated weakly, his stomach rolling uncomfortably.

"Yes. And lemons, tuna-sandwiches and ketchup."

That was too much for James' stomach and he finally, stumbled out of bed, slamming the door to the bathroom close behind him. Lily smirked in satisfaction.

* * *

"Hey...time to wake up, gorgeous."

Sirius frowned at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and the strands of hair tickling his chest. Blearily, he opened his eyes, confused as he saw a brunette woman hovering in his line of sight.

"Hi," the woman said, grinning widely. "I just wanted to say that I had a really lovely time last night..." she let a finger slowly trail down his chest. "And I wouldn't mind a repeat performance. Or an actual date."

Sirius blinked as he fought against the massive headache impairing his ability to think. Slowly, he began to recall last night: drinking and talking with James...that group of women approaching...drinking some more...dancing...drinking...thinking one of them looked a lot like Mandy and taking her home... His stomach clenched and he swallowed. "You should leave," he croaked out, forcing himself into a sitting position as he pushed her up.

The woman pouted, pushing out her chest enticingly. "Not even a quickie?"

"No. Get out."

The woman huffed, standing up. "Well, can I borrow your shower first?"

"What part of _get out_ don't you understand?" Sirius asked and the brunette muggle gawked at him in total shock. Shaking her head, she slowly began to dress, Sirius looking anywhere but at her, lost in memories.

"You're quite rude, you know," the woman said once she was dressed, crossing her arms.

Sirius slowly turned to look at her, blinking slightly, having completely forgot her presence. "Oh. You're still here."

Narrowing her eyes, the woman spun around on her heels, muttering under her breath as she left, the door slamming closed behind her with a loud sound as she exited the apartment. Sirius fell backwards onto the bed, tears blurring his sight.

* * *

**21 May**

BOOM!

The visitors to the Wizarding Library screamed as the doors were blown of their hinges and Death Eaters came storming in, led by Voldemort himself.

"Remember – I want all the information on the Slayer you can find." The Dark Lord commanded his followers. He turned to look at the cowering civilians. "Kill everyone who moves. I just want the books."

Unbeknownst to the Dark Lord, however, not all of the visitors were scared out of their wits. Sturgis Podmore was one of them and Benjy Fenwick was another: both of them were members of the Order of the Phoenix, in the library to do research for Dumbledore, and now, they both looked at each other and nodded. Benjy stood up to draw the attention away from Sturgis, who quietly sent off his patronus to the Headmaster, alerting him to the attack.

"Benjy Fenwick..." the Dark Lord breathed and then smirked. "Do you think to challenge me? Me, the Dark Lord, and live?"

Benjy shrugged. "Not really," he said honestly. "Why do you want information on the Slayer?" He asked, hoping to stall for time.

"As if you don't know," Voldemort sneered. "I am aware of your allegiances to the Order, and as such, I have no doubt you are familiar with one Buffy Summers."

Benjy pretended to look confused. "Yes. Why? Has she done something to you?"

"Do not play games with me, Fenwick," the Dark Lord breathed, before turning to look at his Death Eaters: the majority of them were keeping their wands pointed at the staff and visitors, while two of them were moving from bookcase to bookcase, gathering all the information about the Slayer they could see. "Do you see them?" He asked. "So eager to do my bidding. Do you know why?"

"Because they lack a brain?" Benjy suggested.

The Dark Lord chuckled. "No. Because we share a common goal. We all want a brighter future – "

" – And yet you're dirtying down the present," Benjy interrupted. "Yes, that makes total sense. Spare me the lecture of the glory of being a Death Eater. That's a glory I can do without. If I wanted to kiss someone's robes, I'd at least make sure they were attached to someone with better looks. If I were you, I'd lay of the rituals – they're not really doing anything for your appearance. You're looking a bit sunken, you know?"

Enraged, Voldemort blasted Benjy backwards into a bookcase, which immediately fell over, several books and pages flying into the air, destroyed. One of the librarians let out a whimper at the sight. "Enough of this," the Dark Lord spat. "Rosier, Wilkes – are you done soon?"

"Almost, my Lord," one of the Death Eaters gathering up books answered.

"That was the last one," the second one said.

"Good. I was going to spare you," Voldemort spoke to all of the assembled visitors. "After all, I can respect those in search of more knowledge. However, thanks to Fenwick over there – " he glanced at Benjy who was slowly sitting up with the help of Sturgis, looking dazed. "I am no longer in a gracious mood." He looked at his Death Eaters, who began to smirk. "Kill them all."

The helpless witches and wizards immediately began to cry and scream for mercy, and then, the Wizarding Library was thrown into chaos as the windows exploded inwards, making the Death Eaters look away in surprise. One after one, members of the Order of the Phoenix and Aurors streamed into the large room, from the destroyed windows and from the door-less entrance. Spells flew back and forth between the mask-clad wizards and the light side's warriors.

"The height of blasphemy," Remus muttered as he exchanged a spell with one of the Death Eaters. "Attacking a library...sacrilegious is what it is." He winced as one of the nearby bookcases was set ablaze.

James laughed. "That's what you're most upset about? The destruction of books?"

Remus glared. "Some of the books in here are priceless, James! I'm not saying they're more important than the lives of the people here – of course they aren't! – I'm just saying that attacking a place dedicated to knowledge and studies is completely disrespectful and a new low, even for Voldemort!"

"Well, to be fair, the majority of the books weren't destroyed before our arrival," Eliza pointed out from his other side.

Remus grumbled something unintelligible and James laughed again. "You know sacrifices are an unavoidable part of war."

"Yes, but did the sacrifice have to involve books?" Remus muttered and this time, Eliza and James both laughed. The battle went on.

* * *

Buffy paced back and forth in front of Lily's sofa, and the red-head stared at her in amused affection, one hand cradling her pregnant stomach. "You should sit down. Your pacing doesn't help them any."

"Well, it's making me feel better," Buffy muttered. "I hate not knowing what's going on!"

"Well, your lack of participation in the battle is completely voluntary on your part, Buffy," Lily said kindly. "Me and Alice on the other hand – " she patted her swollen belly meaningfully.

Buffy abruptly stopped her pacing. "You're right. Me staying out of things...it is voluntary. And I can stop it any time." She remembered the pep-talk Remus had given her after reading the story about the First Slayer. He had asked her then, if she was ready to be strong – she hadn't answered, still feeling slightly uncertain, despite feeling

Remus' confidence in her through their bond. And she still wasn't sure – but one thing she knew: she was done with being weak. She had the power to help, and to hopefully end the war quicker. And by God, she was going to do it.

Taking a deep breath, she forced the last remnants of her doubt and sadness away from her mind, and she smiled as she felt determination take its place. "I'll see you later, Lily," Buffy said calmly. _"I_ am late for a battle." And then, she apparated away.

Green-coloured eyes glittered as Lily's lips stretched into a smile. "It's about time."

* * *

_CRACK._

Buffy appeared a few feet outside the Wizarding Library, staring at the spellfire and moving people she could see through the broken windows. Breaking into a run, she launched herself through one of them, falling into a roll and standing up, quickly grasping a passing Death Eater with her hands and throwing him bodily at another masked man.

Adrenaline was filling her now as she looked around for her friends: James and Sirius were fighting back to back, as were Eliza and Caradoc. Dumbledore was duelling Voldemort, and Remus... Finally, Buffy spotted him duelling two Death Eaters at once, standing protectively in front of a dark haired woman, and she began to run in his direction. Before she could get there, however, a large Death Eater walked into her path, punching her in the face and Buffy stumbled backwards, surprised. "How do you like it when you're on the receiving end, bitch?" He asked.

Buffy fingered the bruise she could feel forming around her eye and she smirked. "I'm thinking I've felt girls hit harder than you." The amusing thing was, it was actually true. With a roar of anger, the Death Eater launched himself at her, but Buffy only rolled her eyes, easily avoiding his swing, elbowing him in the spine as he overbalanced, and he fell to the floor, dazed and he slowly turned around onto his back with a groan. "You should probably stick to magic," Buffy advised sagely as she turned her back on him, moving to get to Remus. "You can't possibly be any _worse_ at it."

"_DIFFINDO!"_ Buffy's eyes widened at the sound of the cutting spell leaving the felled Death Eater's lips and she jerked aside, the curse missing her with an inch. Unfortunately, it kept speeding on, towards the helpless woman that Remus was protecting.

Everything happened quickly: Buffy spun around, knocking the Death Eater unconscious with a swipe of her leg against his head, even as the woman let out a scream of fright. Buffy turned back around, while Remus moved, the spells thrown by the Death Eaters he was duelling impacting harmlessly onto a wall as he threw himself at the woman, presumably to get her out of the way of the spell.

Unfortunately, he wasn't quite quick enough, and the spell hit him instead. Blood splattered into the air and Remus let out a scream of pain, grasping his wounded arm in shock. Buffy ran forward, knocking out the Death Eaters he had been duelling, before she sank to her knees beside Remus.

"Remus!"

"It's not bad," Remus grimaced, but from the paleness of his face and the amount of blood dripping from his arm that was hanging limply, Buffy knew he was lying.

"Let me see it," Buffy demanded, pulling out her wand, and gritting his teeth, Remus removed his hand from the bleeding wound on his arm. Buffy paled as she saw the damage: the spells impact was so severe that his left arm was nearly completely severed.

Lena Page, librarian and manager of human resources, the woman Remus had been defending, stared in shock and confusion at the blonde man she now recognised from a job interview many, many months ago. "I-I don't understand. Y-you're a werewolf...why were you fighting against them?"

Remus grimaced as Buffy began to mumble spells under her breath, doing her best to stem the bleeding and to keep him from losing the limb completely. "Because being a werewolf does not automatically make me evil," he said through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the colours flickering in front of his vision, making his sight blurry.

"B-but..." Lena bit her lip. "Then why did you save me? I refused to hire you - "

Remus laughed weakly. "And because of that, you deserve to die?" His voice slurred slightly as he tried to focus on the conversation rather than the excruciating pain and dizziness he felt. "I'm not that petty."

"But you risked your life to save mine," Lena said, in utter puzzlement. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know," Remus said calmly, before he let his eyes fall blissfully closed. The sounds of fighting had died down. Voldemort had retreated and the Aurors were now going around, tying up the captured Death Eaters that had been unable to escape with him, while the Order members were healing the wounded.

"I need to get you to St. Mungo's," Buffy spoke up. "I've done what I can, but your arm needs more healing than I can give you here." Remus didn't answer, finally having passed out from the shock and pain.

"I don't know how to thank him..." Lena muttered, face pale.

"Well," Buffy said, with a tone of voice lighter than she felt, "you could give him a job."

A strangled sound escaped Lena's throat. "Yes, I suppose I could."

* * *

_**Published: **06/10 -11 (Should have been published on the 22 september, but I forgot to upload the chapter from the Doc manager. -sheepish smile- It was uploaded onto Twisting Hellmouth as usual though._

* * *

**T****rivia**

- The library Voldemort raids is the library Remus applied for a job in Road of Carnage chapter 5. Lena Page is the person who interviewed him and turned his application down when she found out he was a werewolf.


	8. Faith

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

"_I won't leave without her," the teenager stubbornly said and Diana Dormer sighed, glancing at the small child tightly gripping the hand of the leather clad girl. No, potential Slayer, Diana reminded herself. She was far from just a girl anymore._

"_She will be safer here," the Watcher tried. She was here because she'd been chosen to watch over and guide one of next generation of potential Slayers. She would have her hands full without having to play baby-sitter to a problem child (even if she was cute) on top of that – and Faith clearly had an attitude problem._

_Brown eyes narrowed. "It's both of us, or none," Faith said, the stubborn set of her jaw clearly saying she wouldn't give an inch on this. "Take your pick."_

_Diana sighed, knowing a battle lost when she saw one. "Very well. The child may come."_

"_My name is Dawn," the child whispered, looking up shyly with impossibly large, blue eyes and Diana couldn't help but melt. _

"_Dawn, then," Diana smiled._

Faith woke up from her dream with a gasp. It felt so real...but the memory was part fabricated, like so many others. The kid she'd been looking after ever since meeting her wasn't real. Only Faith had been taken from the Belmont Centre that day by Diana, Dawn had never been there. She had been added to her memories long afterwards, in order to save her from being used by Glory as the key, trusted to be protected by Faith, the Slayer.

But though Dawn's human existence was a lie, the connection Faith felt towards her wasn't. And she'd failed in protecting her. Glory had her now. Just as she'd failed in protecting Diana, and so many others, Dawn was now lost to her. How was she supposed to beat a friggin' God? She might be the Slayer, but she was still only human.

Slowly getting up from the bed, Faith dressed and headed towards the Magic Shop.

"Yo, G," Faith greeted, much more calm now after a brisk jog and a short confrontation with a vampire right outside the shop – he hadn't been much of a challenge, but he'd given her the relief she needed to get through this meeting. And he hadn't recognised her as the Slayer, which always was a nice change. Though Faith had to admit, it was more fun killing vamps that knew who she was but were still certain they could take her.

"Faith, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" Giles pulled of his glasses, and, predictably, began polishing them on his sweater.

Faith smirked. "Always at least once more." Nodding towards the books on the table, Faith grew serious again. "Any luck?"

Giles sighed. "Well...we...ah...while the books Spike and Xander brought from the demon's place were very helpful – "

"Hear that, Captain Forehead?" Spike nudged Angel teasingly. "I'm _helpful._ What are you again? Oh, that's right – a giant poof."

Angel sighed, wondering not for the first time why he hadn't stayed in LA. While Cordelia was annoying at times, at least she was only one person. And he still couldn't wrap his head around that Spike – _SPIKE _– was now more or less one of the Scoobies. "Spike – "

" – Oh, shut it you two," Xander sighed. "We have an Apocalypse waiting, in case you haven't noticed. And if I'm not wrong, that possible-end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it thing is the reason we called you Angel, so more of the helping and less of the sensitivity..."

"Sensi – I'm not sensitive!" Angel protested. Something else he couldn't get used to – while Xander wasn't very fond of either of the vampires, if he had to pick one, he picked Spike. Everyone picked Spike, for some unfathomable reason. He didn't even have a soul, just a stupid chip in his head.

"Do you want me to gag you three?" Faith asked with a raised eyebrow, looking from Spike, to Xander, to Angel, who crossed his arms, pointedly not looking at either of the men. Sensitive. Bah!

"Xander's got a point. He is kind of sensitive," Anya said helpfully out loud, and Angel's eyebrow twitched in badly held back annoyance.

"What did you find out?" Faith asked, turning her attention back to Giles, who, while not her official Watcher, was her unofficial one. Even after Wesley had arrived in Sunnydale to replace Giles who had been assigned to Faith temporarily after she had come to the Hellmouth with Dawn (Watcher-less and with a crazy, vengeance-thirsty vampire in the form of Kakistos on their tail) the librarian had stuck around, possibly in an attempt to keep the ties to his old Slayer. Buffy Summers had run away after she had to kill Angel and seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. Faith doubted she was still alive, and so did everyone else, even if no one voiced it – it had been years after all, and there was no such thing as Slayer retirement. Even if Buffy didn't go looking for a fight, sooner or later, the fight would find her.

At first, the two Watchers had not gotten along – at all. Their opinions differed on everything. But now, Giles and Wesley were good friends, even if they still clashed sometimes: after realising that Wesley really wasn't as stuffy as he seemed to be, the older Watcher had taken him under his wing.

Giles had loosened Wesley out, brought out an actual personality from under the shell deeply ingrained by years of strict training and constant criticism at the hands of the Watchers Council and a belittling father. Wesley, in turn, had made Giles feel useful again, unknowingly helping him heal from the loss of his Slayer – not to mention giving him someone other than teenagers to spend time with.

It was this Wesley, the changed one, that Faith had learnt to appreciate: the person he'd been when he first arrived in Sunnydale wasn't one Faith would have touched with a ten-foot pole, and definitely not someone she could imagine taking orders from. But now, having lost the stick up us his ass, not to mention his glasses, restrictive suits and wimpy attitude, things were very different. Faith had never expected they would be able to work with one another as well as they did, and neither had Wes. And when they did butt heads, that's when Giles stepped in. On top of that, the two Watchers took turns in heading up to Los Angeles every now and then to help Angel with his cases, so there was always something for both of them to do.

"You don't want to wait for Wesley?" Giles questioned.

"Nah," Faith said. "He'll show. You know how it is, Giles – you Brits take ages to prepare your tea just right."

"Very well," Giles coughed, preferring to ignore Faith's comment. "But we have no new information, Faith. Nothing has changed since yesterday. The ritual is, uh..."

"Yeah, yeah, blood-letting, blah, blah, the Key is living energy that needs to be channeled, blah, blah, which will break down the dimensional walls between the worlds, resulting in catastrophic consequences, blah, blah. I_ know _all that. What did you find out that's actually _new?" _Faith demanded to find out.

"Like I said, nothing has changed," the older Watcher repeated, slightly impatiently. "The only way for the walls between the dimensions to come back up again is if the energy is used up. If Dawn dies."

"And I've said it once, and I'm saying it again: that's not going to happen. I'm not gonna kill the one person in my life that's as good as my sister," Faith snarled, clenching her fists. "I've practically raised her."

"It's the only way," Giles sighed. "I don't like it, but I don't see another solution. Picking up one of the books, he read: _"The blood flows, the gates will open. The gates will close when it flows no more. _It's very straight the blood is shed at a certain time and place, the fabric which separates all realities will be ripped apart. Dimensions will pour into one another, with no barriers to stop them. Reality as we know it will be destroyed, and chaos will reign on earth."

"Well, then we stop Glory before the ritual takes place," Faith said. "We still have a couple of hours, right?"

"How?" Willow asked silently, holding Tara's hand, as the pajama clad witch whimpered and rocked back and forth, the insanity brought on by Glory becoming more pronounced by the hour. Faith inwardly winced. There was another person she hadn't been able to keep safe…

"I don't know," Faith said, frustrated. "You're supposed to be the brains in this group, Red. Figure it out!"

"I have places to be!" Tara yelled out, and they all looked over at her, before they returned to their conversation.

"It's a big chance, Faith," Giles warned. "And two hours isn't much. If the ritual starts, then every living creature in this and every other dimension imaginable will suffer unbearable torment and death...including Dawn. Are you going to be able to live with that?"

"If we fail, we won't be doing much living, so I don't really care. I'm gonna protect Dawn even if it's the last thing I ever do," Faith said grimly.

"So…any ideas?" Willow asked, sounding defeated. "How do you kill a Hell God?"

"Well…you've gone up against her before, Willow. You weakened her pretty good," Anya suggested. "Maybe you can conjure up some mojo."

"And what about Ben?" Xander asked, suddenly hopeful. "He's sharing a body with Glory, and he's human – we can kill him, right? I mean, I know he's innocent, but between him and Dawn…we could kill a regular guy, couldn't we?"

Faith felt bile rise in her throat, remembering the one time she'd killed an actual human being. Sure, it had been an honest mistake, she had though it had been a vampire…but it had almost destroyed her. It had brought her so close to falling to the dark side…if it hadn't been for her friends and knowing she had a responsibility to Dawn, she probably would have.

As if realizing what he'd just suggested, Xander bowed his head, looking sickened with himself. "God…"

"It's okay, Xan," Faith said softly. Despite the disgust she felt at herself for even considering taking the life of another human, she knew Xander's suggestion was a sound one, strategically wise – at least it was a plan, rather than just a half-developed idea. "We're all a little desperate right now."

"What about a distraction?" Wesley asked, entering the Magic Shop. "Glory only has one shot at the ritual, if we can keep her occupied…delay her somehow…"

"Bait?" Willow suggested. "I mean, like Anya said, I can work some magic. And we have two vampires at our disposal, that's got to count for something, right?"

"The Dagon sphere," Angel said, turning to Faith. "You mentioned it was something you found, meant to repel Glory? Might buy us some more time."

Faith slowly nodded. "Yeah…it might work. That, and the troll hammer."

"I was just about to suggest that," Anya said brightly. "You wanna fight a God, use the weapon of a God. See – we have a plan!"

"We still have no idea where to find her, though," Wesley pointed out.

"Big day. Oh, it calls me! I have to be there!" Tara exclaimed, and everyone turned to look at her.

Xander raised an eyebrow at Wesley. "You were saying?"

"Big day!" Tara repeated.

* * *

**Outside time**

The Fates were restless. In one of the dimensions things were changing so fast even they had trouble keeping up. So many different possibilities depended on the outcome of this battle. If the Hell God Glorificus succeeded in her goal, all that they were meant to prevail could be lost.

Only once before had the thin layer separating the many dimensions become fractured, then due to the actions of one of their own. They had barely been able to uphold the balance then – and that had been but a fraction of what could happen if Glorificus succeeded in opening her portal.

Currently, the Fates were in deep discussion: should they interfere? After all, if the Key began to bleed, the continued existence of the universe and the balance between the different dimensions were threatened. But it wasn't due to the choices made by humans, which was what the loop-hole that allowed interference said – it was due to the choice of a God, and so, the Fates were split.

One young Fate, in fact, the same one who had been the cause of the first rift, thought that they should leave it alone. He had learnt his lesson well – interference could cause nothing but grief, and humans were resourceful creatures – they could manage just fine.

Looking into the well that allowed the Fates to see what was going on within the worlds, he saw the Slayer, Faith, had engaged Glory in a fight. She was clearly losing, even with the aid of two vampires. The Wiccan had managed to restore the mind of her girlfriend, and the younger Watcher was slowly climbing up the tower to which the Key was bound.

The young Fate switched the view of the well, ending up looking at another scene, one involving the blonde Slayer – the one whose life the Fate had interfered with. He had kept close watch over her through the years, feeling responsible for everything that happened to her in the new dimension she was in, good and bad.

When he realised his actions had sent her to the world her soulmate resided in, he had felt such joy for her sake, even if he now knew he had been wrong to meddle – it was not his place, after all. He had grieved when she lost two of her friends; one to death, and one to amnesia, and he rejoiced that she had grown into a powerful, resourceful, beautiful woman.

Suddenly, the well slowly began to glow, and the young Fate had the horrible feeling of déjà vu – it was happening again.

Gradually, all planes of existence, including their own, began to shake. The blood of the Key had been unleashed and the universe trembled by the sudden lack of stability between the dimensions. In horror, he looked into the well, seeing the blonde Slayer caught up in the chaos...again.

* * *

**22 May, 1980**

"How are you feeling?" Buffy asked Remus worriedly.

"I feel fine," Remus repeated for the third time that day. "It was just a scratch."

Buffy snorted. "Just a scratch. You almost lost your arm!"

"Almost, being the key-word. It's perfectly attached now, see?" Remus lifted his carefully bandaged left arm several times to prove a point, only to wince in pain. "Ouch. Okay, so it's still sore. Anyway, you're one to talk – I'm not the one with the bruised eye."

Buffy rolled her eyes, quickly moving to adjust Remus' bandage, frowning as she saw she would probably need to put on some more anti-infection cream – it was beginning to seep with pus, and the area looked red and irritated. "Case in point: a _bruise, _not a near amputation."

"It wasn't a near amputation," Remus protested.

"Re, your arm was hanging by a thread!" Buffy laughed incredulously.

"But thanks to your quick healing in the field, and then at St. Mungo's, it is now firmly attached once again," Remus said. "Besides, what was I supposed to do? Let that woman die?"

Buffy sighed. "Of course not. But it's not like you owed her anything."

"I know I didn't," Remus said quietly. "But I wanted to save her anyway."

"And I love you for it," Buffy said, settling down beside him. "I just wish the full moon wouldn't have been yesterday as well. The damage your transformation did to an arm already in a bad shape will set back the healing progress by quite a lot."

"Well, look at it from the bright side: at least I have a job now!" Remus said. "Once the restoration on the library is done, anyway."

Buffy smiled slightly. "That's true. At least one good thing came from yesterday."

"And speaking of yesterday – I was surprised to see your arrival," Remus said. "I thought you'd decided to wait a bit longer before rejoining the fighting?"

"Yes, well...I changed my mind," Buffy shrugged. "Our conversation after I read the story about the Slayer's origins really helped me, and as I was sitting there, waiting with Lily for the battle to finish, I realised that's not me. I've never been one to be content with sitting on the sidelines, and I'm tired of being weak." Her eyes blazed with a determined fire that Remus had sorely missed. "I'm done holding myself back out of fear."

"How did it feel, then?" Remus asked. "Fighting humans again?"

Buffy shrugged again. "Honestly? I didn't even think about it. It just felt good to do good – to make a difference again, if you know what I mean."

"I do." Remus embraced her tightly. "I'm happy for you." Suddenly, the entire cottage began to shake, paintings and vases crashing to the floor in rapid speed. "What the - ?" Remus asked, quickly releasing Buffy and standing up. "Are we under attack? Buffy?"

But Buffy wasn't looking at him; rather, she had an eye on a point on the floor which was slowly breaking apart, along with the earth itself beneath it. There, a blue vortex was growing larger and larger. "It's worse," Buffy said, voice shaky, as she slowly backed away, only to stumble over a table decoration that had fallen down. "We have to get out of here. Now!" She stood back up.

"What are you talking about?" Remus demanded to know.

"A portal," Buffy said. "It looks exactly like the one that brought me here, only it's growing _way_ faster than last time." She thought she could make out images of other places as she stared into the depths of the portal, people...a tower, a bleeding girl tied to it, crying, a man being stabbed by another man, and thrown down from it...

A dark haired girl, fighting a slutty looking blonde, crying out as she saw the man fall, losing her concentration and earned herself a fist to the face that sent her flying, before the curly blonde fury was on her again... The man never hit the ground, stopping, hovering a few inches from the asphalt, a red-headed woman holding out her hand, using magic to stop his deadly descent, another blonde dressed in grey holding her hand. "Willow," Buffy whispered, amazed at what she saw. And... "Angel..." she breathed out, not believing her eyes, and, while she had been backing away before, she was moving closer now.

"What are you doing?" Remus demanded, eyes wide as he tugged at her arm to try and get her to move. "Let's get out of here!"

But Buffy was frozen stiff, staring, transfixed at the scene she saw...and then, it was too late to leave...the portal was dragging her in, dragging them both in, to the place she had come from, so long ago now...back to Sunnydale.

* * *

**22 May, 2001**

As the battle went on below, Wesley had begun the slow climb up the tower, inwardly cursing himself for not being able to go faster. But he was only human, not a vampire, and Spike and Angel were both busy fighting of the minions and the people who had had their brains sucked out by Glory. "Don't look down," he muttered to himself. "Don't look down..." Wesley had never thought himself afraid of heights, but this was not just far above ground: it was a lot higher, and the tower didn't seem all that stable.

Wesley looked up instead, seeing Dawn tied to the edge of the constructions, and his eyes widened when he saw Doc, the demon Spike and Xander had stolen the book about Glory's ritual from, take out a knife...and began to cut. Dawn's terrified cries made him climb faster, even as her blood – the Key's blood – began to drip. He reached the top, slowly heaving himself over the edge.

The Doc cocked his head. "Hello there."

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?" Wesley asked, slowly pulling out a gun from his back pocket. Doc just smiled serenely. In a quick motion, Wesley aimed his gun, but the demon was faster, an obscenely long tongue shooting out of his mouth, grabbing the gun and directing it away, off the tower, falling down to the depths below. "I really liked that gun," Wesley said pointedly, striding forward and engaging Doc in hand to hand, Dawn watching anxiously.

The Doc feinted, and Wesley tripped, coming precariously close to the edge, almost losing his balance. Smiling again, the Doc put both hands to Wesley chest – and pushed.

Faith, engaged in battle with Glory, had just lifted the troll hammer for another blow, only to see something moving at a quick speed out of the corner of her eye. "NO!" She yelled when she realised it was Wesley, falling to his death, and she lost her focus. It was only for a split second, but long enough for Glory to regain the upper-hand: the God aimed a fist at the Slayer's face, and Faith was sent flying, landing several feet away, the troll hammer out of her reach now.

After another half of a second, Glory was there, pounding at the dazed Slayer with all her considerable strength. "Guess you lost your hammer, doe-eyes," the God mocked as she pounded her fist into the Slayer's face.

Faith hadn't been the only one to see Wesley fall. Willow had too. Reaching out with her magic, she managed to stop the Watcher's deadly descent, a now sane Tara holding her hand, lending her strength and confidence.

In the meantime, Spike, Anya, Xander, Giles and Angel were holding the minions at bay. "Where is Faith?" Giles asked with a shout.

Angel looked around amidst the chaos, and finally spotted the dark haired girl on the ground, near unconsciousness as Glory slammed her head down onto the asphalt, again and again. "We have to help her!" He yelled and rushed towards the Slayer, Spike in tow. Together, the two vampires managed to pull Glory away, and engaged her in battle. But Glory was too strong, even for both of them, and soon, they went down.

Triumphant, Glory spun back around, only to be met by a hammer in the face: Faith had recovered from Glory's beating, and had grabbed the hammer again. Without waiting, Faith slammed the hammer in Glory's face repeated times, ignoring the God's pleads for mercy. "Stop it..."

"You're a god," Faith said, her eyes dark with anger as she slammed the hammer down again. "MAKE it stop."

Glory cried out, the pain overwhelming her, and she morphed back into the visage of Ben.

Faith stared at him. Once, she had killed a man. She never wanted to do it again. But could she really let Ben live? Glory would return. She couldn't take that chance. She raised the hammer. "Please..." Ben begged, clearly in pain. "I'm sorry."

Faith looked down on him with an unreadable face, a thousand thoughts crossing her mind. Then, her eyes grew cold. She steeled herself. "So am I." She brought the hammer down. Ben was dead. Glory was gone.

Faith dropped the hammer, stumbling away from the corpse, feeling sick. She knew it had been a necessary evil, knew it had been for the greater good – Glory couldn't be allowed to return. But she felt ill. "Dawn..." She whispered, pushing away the feelings of guilt. She had to get to Dawn.

On top of the tower, Dawn was screaming as Doc cut into her stomach. "Shallow cuts…shallow cuts. Let the blood…flow….free..."

"Dawn!" Faith yelled, having reached the platform.

"Faith!" Dawn gasped, tears in her eyes, both from pain and relief.

"This should be interesting," Doc muttered, swirling around to face Faith, who kicked him between the legs before he could react, and then pushed him of the edge, not bothering to watch him fall. She quickly untied Dawn.

"It's gonna be alright," Faith told her. "You're gonna be okay." She took Dawn's arm, and began to lead the younger girl across the platform.

"Faith…" Dawn whispered, her eyes widening in terror as she saw her blood drip over the edge, creating a small circle of light that quickly began to grow into something much bigger: a portal. "It's started."

Faith swallowed, staring at the growing vortex, at loss. What was she supposed to do?

The portal was growing even larger, crackling and sending out huge bolts of lightning that wrecked destruction were they hit. "I'm sorry," Dawn whispered tearfully.

"It doesn't matter!" Faith tried to assure her, ignoring the giant dragon that flew out of the portal. Dawn tried to run past her, but Faith grabbed her shoulder in a tight grip. "What are you doing?" The Slayer demanded to know.

"I have to jump. The energy…"

"It will kill you!" Faith yelled.

Dawn smiled softly. "I know. But…I'm not real, Faith. Not really. And…I know about the ritual. About the blood. I have to stop it. I'm the only one who can. Faith…"

"I don't care!" Faith exclaimed. "Dawn, I won't lose you – "

"You have to! You have to let me go!" Dawn cried. The tower was shaking now, and they both stumbled. More lightning cracked as the portal grew even wider, and encompassed a large part of the dark sky. "Look at what's happening." Two shapes fell out of the portal, plummeting towards the ground. "Blood starts it, and until the blood stops flowing, it will never stop. You know you have to let me…" Dawn smiled at her sadly.

Faith shook her head in denial, even though she knew Dawn was right. "There has to be another way…"

Dawn smiled at her tearfully. "There isn't. It has to have the blood." And then, before Faith could react, she wrenched herself free from the Slayers grip and ran towards the edge.

"NOOO!" Faith screamed, throwing herself towards Dawn, but it was too late – she had already jumped, swan diving right out from the tower and down toward the ball of energy. The portal began to crackle and spit angrily around Dawn's body, the energy growing wild, intersected with green sparks that Dawn was emitting – she was glowing.

A flash of radiant green light spread from Dawn and the portal. For a moment, it covered the entire sky, casting a green sheen on the people on the ground, demonstrating what she truly was – pure energy. And then, the portal exploded, contracting out of existence, taking Dawn – the Key - with it, leaving only coldness in its wake, even as the sun began to rise.

From below, Faith heard faint voices yell out in disbelief. She slowly began her climb down, even slower she approached the Scoobies who were standing in a circle around something – lying on the ground. "Dawn?" Faith whispered, but Wesley shook his head, placing a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

"No…there was no body…but…" He glanced towards the others, and they slowly parted, allowing Faith to see what held their attention. A small blonde girl, and a blonde man, lying side by side on the scorched asphalt. And suddenly, Faith recognized her, from pictures Willow, Xander and Giles had showed her. "They fell from the portal," Wesley muttered. "I don't understand how they're not wounded at all…"

"Buffy…" Angel was whispering, staring in disbelief at the blonde. The rest of the Scoobies who had recognized her could only stare in shock. Faith stared too, the grief she felt for the loss of Dawn slowly dissipating: the memory of her felt like something out of a dream now, just a shadow in her mind.

Absently, Faith wondered if it was part of the magic that had brought Dawn to her - were the memories that had been built to hide the Key disappearing, now when there was nothing left to protect? But then, that thought was gone too, and all her focus was on the two strangers lying on the ground. "So that's Buffy…" she muttered, a frown on her face. "And…?"

"Werewolf," Spike, Angel and Willow echoed, the vampires being able to smell it, and Willow recognizing the distinctive supernatural aura that had always surrounded Oz.

"She's kind of short," Anya, in Xander's arms, noted in her usual no-nonsense way. "Older looking than in your photos, though."

"But is she really Buffy?" Giles asked, barely daring to hope his Slayer – his actual Slayer – was back.

"It's Buffy," Angel said, certain, still staring, transfixed. Her hair was longer, more wavy, and more golden blonde than the last time he had seen her. And her facial features had matured, from that of a teenager to that of a young woman. But it was definitely Buffy, even more beautiful than he remembered. He decided not to mention that her smell, while familiar, was also different – stronger. And she fairly reeked of the same smell as the werewolf emitted, like they had been…intimate recently or at least lived together in very close quarters. He didn't want to think about what that might mean, at all.

"How do you know this isn't some kind of trick?" Willow asked, wanting to believe, but not convinced this wasn't a cruel twist of some kind. "I've done so many scrying spells for her over the years, and I always come up empty, even with Tara to help me…"

"I imagine your spells were all centered on Earth," Spike said dryly. "This Earth."

Wesley nodded slowly as he understood why Willow's spells had had no effect. "Did you ever try other planes - other universes?"

Willow shook her head. "It never crossed my mind. Goddess, why didn't I consider that? What if she's been in some sort of Hell dimension, or – "

"She looks pretty fine if that's the case," Faith interrupted, slightly jealous of the attention the other Slayer was getting.

"Either way, we left her," Xander muttered guiltily. "We should have tried harder…"

"Oh, bloody hell!" Spike exclaimed. "Can it already! We can continue this conversation somewhere else, preferably somewhere with a roof." He looked up at the rapidly lightening sky worriedly.

"I'll carry Buffy," Angel immediately offered, and picked up the blonde in his arms, treating her as though she was made of glass.

"Of course you will," Spike muttered with a roll of his eyes and picked up the other man, the werewolf, swinging him across one shoulder nonchalantly, ignoring Wesley's disapproving look at this treatment.

"Let's go," Giles said, his eyes locked on Buffy's unconscious form. She was back…she was really back.

Faith's eyes were also locked on Buffy's still body, but for a different reason entirely. She couldn't help but feel things were going to be very different from now on…and not necessarily in a good way.

* * *

_**Published: **06/10 -11_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Diana Dormer was Faith's first Watcher, making her first appearance in the original novel Go Ask Malice: A Slayer's Diary. In the same book, the Belmont Center is mentioned as a mental hospital Faith was taken to for observation, from which she was later released into Diana's custody. Diana was later killed by the vampire Kakistos: her death is described in detail that same book, though it is given a quick mention in BTVS 3x3: _Faith, Hope & Trick_.  
- With Buffy gone to the HP-dimension and Faith taking her place in BTVS-verse, things develop somewhat differently: BTVS s. 3 develop pretty much the same way, minus Buffy, which means Faith would end up bonding with the Scoobies easier. She still survives the confrontation with Kakistos, presumably with help from them. Also, with Dawn as her responsibility, two Watchers looking out for her and actual friends, when Faith accidentally kills the Mayor's assistant, she doesn't turn evil. Angel still comes back to life and still ends up going to LA after graduation, though not because he thinks Buffy deserves a life in the sun, but because without her in Sunnydale, he has no reason to stay.  
- Wesley never leaves Sunnydale after season three to become a 'rough demon hunter' and matures quicker than in canon. Therefor, he never ends up being permanently based with Angel Investigations after Doyle's death. Instead, he and Giles take turns helping Angel up in LA.  
- BTVS s. 4 still develops pretty much the same way, but since Faith never finished High School, she does not enter the university, which means that she did not meet Riley (no romance) or Maggie Walsh, but she still eventually becomes aware of the Initiative through Spike after he escapes from them with a chip in his head, just like in canon.  
- As for season 5, in canon Buffy spared Glory's life, but as Faith is a lot more hardened, she kills her/Ben, rather than leaving that to Giles. Neither Angel nor Spike are in love with Faith, so as her Watcher, Wesley ends up being the one climbing to the tower to try and save Dawn from Doc while Faith fights Glory. Since Wesley is not a vampire, he can't take the consequent fall the way Spike could, which is why Willow and Tara got to save him with some Wicca mojo.  
- Since Buffy and Faith come from two very different backgrounds, Dawn does not end up being made into Faith's actual sister by the monks, just someone she's taken under her wing. As such, they are not blood-related, which means Faith can't take her place when it becomes necessary to close the portal. Dawn jumping is actually what happens in the original fake script for the ending of 5x22: The Gift, to prevent the true end with Buffy's death from being leaked to the public.


	9. Sunnydale

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**23 May, 2001**

Buffy's eyes flickered open and she found herself staring up at a vaguely familiar looking ceiling. Turning her head, she smiled in relief when she came face to face with Remus, seemingly asleep. Slowly, she sat up, wincing slightly, her eyes widening when she caught sight of a framed photo of her mother standing on a wooden dresser in front of the bed. Her breath caught in her throat and she turned to look through the window, swallowing as she caught sight of the view. "Re...wake up."

Remus groaned, before his eyes blinked open, wariness filling them as he took in the unfamiliar room and the smell of dust, like it hadn't been cleaned in a while. "Where are we?"

"I think...we're at my house," Buffy answered. "That portal...it took us to Sunnydale."

Remus tried to stall the panic rapidly rising in his chest. Sunnydale. Buffy's dimension. "How are we going to get back?" His voice shook slightly. "Buffy..._we__have__to__get__back._The war...our _friends...__"_

Buffy didn't seem to be listening. Almost transfixed, she stood up, looking around the room. Her mom's bedroom. "I can barely believe it..." She breathed out.

"I don't _want_ to believe it," Remus snapped, sounding slightly harsh. "Buffy...we can't stay here!"

Buffy spun around, looking wild. "And why not?" She demanded to know. "I realise you can't stay forever, but there is no way back, at least not now. Dumbledore looked for a way to send me back for years without success – we'll just have to make the best of things! At least it seems we're in my home dimension and not one completely unfamiliar to both of us."

"_I_ can't stay forever?" Remus asked, a pang in his heart.

Buffy stared at him in confusion. "What?"

"You said..._I__realise_you _can__'__t__stay__forever._ Not _we._ Buffy..." Remus swallowed. "Are you thinking of staying?" He hated how vulnerable his voice sounded.

Buffy licked her lips. "N-no. Of course I'm not. I...the Wizarding World is my home now, not Sunnydale." Her voice completely lacked conviction, and it was clear Remus noticed.

"Perhaps that was easy to say when we were actually_in_the Wizarding World." Remus looked down at his hands. "Look, Buffy...I understand. I'm not going to blame you if you want to stay." He smiled bitterly. "After all, I always knew there was a possibility you would leave someday."

Buffy stared at him dumbly. Yes, the possibility had always been there...but as days became weeks and weeks became months and months turned into years, it became less and less likely. And as time went by, Buffy began to wish for it less and less - until she no longer wished to return at all. When Dumbledore told her she would have to, Buffy had protested vehemently. She had been certain that going back to Sunnydale was no longer what she wanted – that her home was the Wizarding World and the people there.

But now, she was back...back in Sunnydale, and suddenly, she felt so uncertain. "Re..." Buffy swallowed again. "I love you. We're...we're soulmates. Of course I'll return with you if we find a way to go back...I-I don't know why I said otherwise..."

"But I do," Remus said sadly as he stood up from the bed. "Buffy...this is your first home. You have a family here. Friends. Who am I to deny you that?"

"Let's not talk about this, now," Buffy said, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter, anyway." Remus wanted to scream, that yes, it did matter, darn it! But he also knew it would do no good. They were both too shocked right now to be able to think clearly. "Re..." Buffy suddenly whispered, a hand on the door handle.

"Yes?"

"If...if there was a way back...but for some reason, I didn't want to take it...would you stay with me?"

Remus stared at her. He hadn't even thought of that possibility. Of him, staying here...on the one hand, his friends were in the Wizarding World...and the war...and this world was completely unfamiliar to him. On the other, he could learn to adjust, like Buffy had adjusted to the Wizarding World...and if Buffy chose to stay here... There wasn't even a choice to be made. "Of course I would. If you wanted me to, I would. I would do anything for you. I love you."

"And I love you too," Buffy said, finally opening the door, only to come face to face with a blast from the past. "Angel..." Only half-aware of what she was doing, Buffy raised a shield in her mind, blocking the empathy she shared with Remus, successfully keeping the swivel of nearly overwhelming emotion rising inside her from reaching Remus across their bond. She didn't notice Remus jerk back in shock and hurt when the small part in the back of his mind that was _Buffy_ disappeared.

Angel's face was impossible to read. "Buffy..."

"I don't understand," Buffy said. "How are you here? How are you alive?"

"Well...alive would be a stretch," Angel said honestly. "Undead is probably a better description."

Buffy let out an incredulous laugh. "This is impossible..."

"I came to see if you were awake," Angel said, voice gentle. "Everyone else is downstairs. They're all really anxious for an explanation of what happened to you...and who he is." He glanced at Remus, who met his eyes squarely.

Remus tried to find comfort in the fact that Buffy loved him – had said so, just a few seconds ago, but he couldn't help but be afraid that now that Angel was back in the picture again, that would change. Especially since she had blocked her side of their bond – why had she done that? What kind of emotions was she experiencing that she didn't want Remus to feel? This was Angel, the supposed love of Buffy's life, the tragic love story from the past in the flesh, whose death had made Buffy run away and mourn for months. How could he even hope to compare?

Angel, in the meantime, was wondering what Buffy saw in this guy – he had heard the declaration of love from the other side of the door, and he was not happy about it. After he found Buffy gone after his return from Hell, he had resigned himself to a life of loneliness. But now, she was back – they should have had a second chance, but there was another person in his place... and it seemed, his complete opposite, in looks, if nothing else.

"I wouldn't mind some explanations myself," Buffy said.

Angel nodded sharply, a brief flicker of hurt at the brisk answer from Buffy crossing his face for a moment, and he moved to turn around. "Angel?" Buffy grasped his hand, her voice sounding childishly vulnerable, and Angel looked at her, surprised, his face softening. "I'm glad you're okay."

Angel smiled, then, a bare movement of his lips, but it was genuine. "Likewise," he said, and Remus felt his heart constrict painfully at the look of deep understanding that passed between the Slayer and vampire. Angel was the one to let go of Buffy hand first, and then, he led them downstairs, Buffy and Remus following.

The moment Buffy stepped into the living room, she was nearly assaulted. "Buffy!" Both Willow and Xander practically threw themselves at the blonde Slayer, who laughed.

"Will. Xan. It's great to see you." After a long hug the two let go, and Giles stood up, slowly walking forward, tears in his eyes as he took in the sight of his Slayer. "Giles..."

Giles didn't say anything, only embraced Buffy tightly. "Buffy...dear girl...you have no idea how much I've missed you..."

"I've missed you to," Buffy said, tears of her own falling from her eyes, and it was true: she had sorely missed Giles presence in her life, the father figure he had represented, especially the last few months. She had been struggling so with her Slayer heritage, her sense of self, her place and purpose, and Giles' advice would have been welcome. To see him again was wonderful. Finally, they let go of each other, Buffy wiping her eyes and Giles clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"I imagine some introductions are in order," the Watcher said and Buffy smiled at him.

"Yes...except for you, Angel, Willow and Xander, there's no one here I...recognise..." her voice trailed off as she caught sight of Spike, standing in a corner, trying and failing to look inconspicuous. "You!" She exclaimed, and Spike gave her a leering grin.

"Hello, Slayer."

"What is he doing here?" Buffy demanded to know. "And why is no one staking him?"

"He's a good guy now," Willow said.

"Oi!" Spike protested.

"Kind of," Xander amended. "He's got a chip in his head that keeps him from hurting people, but not other demons, so he joined up with us. Sort of."

"Right," Buffy's eyes narrowed as she tried to take this in.

"You have no grounds on which to judge me, Slayer," Spike said. "It's been years. You don't know me."

"And I can't say I particularly want to," Buffy said shortly, eyes darkening as she remembered Spike grabbing Drusilla and leaving Buffy to face Angelus alone.

"Likewise," Spike retorted with a huff, looking away, but after half a second, unnoticed by Buffy, he glanced back at her, trying to look inconspicuous.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. "So...where's Oz at?" Buffy finally asked.

"We broke up," Willow said, and then grasped the hand of the blonde sitting beside her. "This is Tara, my girlfriend."

"Hi," Tara said shyly.

Buffy blinked. "Hi," she said, slightly shocked and wondering when Willow had realised she was gay – or bi, was probably a more accurate description. She glanced at Remus for his reaction: after all, he had grown up in a dimension that was some twenty years in behind, and she had no idea what kind of tolerance the Wizarding World held towards homosexuals. To his credit, he didn't bat an eye and only smiled in greeting. "It's very nice to meet you, Tara," Buffy said, earning herself a smile. "And what about Cordelia?"

"She lives in LA and works at my detective agency," Angel spoke up.

"Your what?" Buffy blinked.

"Angel Investigations," Angel said. "I don't live in Sunnydale anymore. It was too painful...after..."

"Oh," Buffy muttered. Another awkward silence fell, finally broken by the perky looking blonde beside Xander:

"I'm Anya," she said. "I'm Xander's girlfriend. I really like money and I used to be a vengeance demon but I'm not anymore, so you can't slay me, okay?"

Slightly bemused, Buffy looked at her. "Okay, I won't. It's nice to meet you too." Buffy turned to the remaining male in the room that Buffy hadn't yet heard from, and he smiled at her gently.

"I'm Wesley, Faith's Watcher," the man said, nodding his head at the woman sitting beside him.

"Oh...you're...different," Buffy finally said as she took in the scruffy shadow of a beard on Wesley's face, the leather jacket, and...was that a gun holster? His appearance, at least, did not exactly go hand in hand with what Buffy considered a Watcher should be like.

Wesley grinned. "Let me guess: you expected someone bookish with a stiff upper lip and a stick up his arse?"

Buffy's lips twitched. "Something like that, yes."

"You should have seen me two years ago," Wesley said dryly and Buffy chuckled, turning to look at Faith.

"So...if Wesley is your Watcher, that would make you..."

"The Vampire Slayer, yes," Faith answered, her eyes meeting Buffy's in an obvious challenge. It was clear the brunette felt Buffy had invaded her space and territory, and to be honest, Buffy felt slightly the same way. However, she did her best not to let it show at this moment. Instead, she nodded slowly.

"You were called after Kendra died?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, it's very nice to meet all of you," Remus said after several seconds of silence, smiling hesitantly at the group, and interrupting the tension he could feel rising between the two Slayers. "I'm Remus Lupin."

Willow gasped as she caught his accent and turned to look between Giles, Spike and Wesley, gesturing wildly in Remus direction. "He's British! British! Like you!"

"Where are you from, Remus?" Giles asked, looking interested. "I realise you are from another dimension and the geography might be completely different – "

"Kent," Remus answered. "And I think geography might be one of the things least different between our worlds."

"Well, I'm very interested to hear about it and what you have been up to, Buffy."

Buffy shrugged. "Being surrounded by Briticism, learning magic, fighting a war...that's pretty much it."

Remus chuckled slightly at the gobsmacked impressions the Scoobies were wearing. "A war?" Xander echoed, even as Willow said: "Learning magic?"

"Yes," Buffy glanced at Remus who pulled out his wand, making Giles and Wesley's eyes widen in interest. "The main difference between this world and the one I ended up in is that it has a Wizarding World, hidden from non-magical people, with its own population and infrastructure. And they cast magic, with a wand, like the one Remus is holding. And because I'm the Slayer, apparently I have a magical core as well, so I can do magic too. Anyway, the war I'm talking about is fought within the Wizarding World against a Dark Lord, who feels everyone not of pure blood – that is everyone without a magical heritage – is unworthy and should be killed."

"And you've been a part of this?" Giles asked weakly.

Buffy's lips twitched. "You know me, Giles. What do you think?"

"How long has this war been going on?" Wesley asked, sounding fascinated.

"Years," Remus answered this time. "It's only really picked up in the last three though, before then it was mostly minor skirmishes and political manoeuvres, Voldemort – that's the Dark Lord's name – gathering support and spreading fear. Now, however..." his face took on a grim look. "Now it's a lot more than that. People are dying every day and Voldemort is only becoming stronger."

"C-could you show us some magic?" Tara asked Buffy curiously, and she shook her head.

"Sorry – I'm afraid my wand must still be in our house. I wasn't holding it when the portal dragged us in. But Remus could."

Happy to oblige, Remus nodded, biting his lip as he thought about what he could do. Finally, he decided that something excessive would probably work best in a demonstration. He flicked his wand, once, twice: the television turned into a dog and the coffee table began to tap-dance. He flicked his wand again, and both the TV and table returned to their normal, immobile state. After a second hesitation, he then did the arrow-firing spell that he'd once taught Buffy. After all, their magic wasn't about parlour tricks, and that particular spell should impress a group who fought evil. The Watchers, at least, looked intrigued, and the other Slayer, Faith, reluctantly interested.

"Oh my God!" Willow was the first one to speak, sounding shaky and slightly jealous. "That's quite different from mine and Tara's magic. We're Wiccans," she explained at Remus and Buffy's questioning looks. "Tara's mother was a Wiccan, so she's been practicing from a young age, and I got into it after you disappeared. I am quite powerful now, actually. My first spell was the one that restored Angel's soul..."

Buffy paled, throwing a glance at Angel who stared back calmly. "You're the reason he...turned back to himself at the end?"

"Yes," Willow said. "I'm sorry, Buffy – I realise how difficult it must have been, to kill Angel rather than Angelus..."

"It's okay," Buffy said weakly. "I've had a long time to get over it. So...umm...what else has been going on with you guys? On the villain front, I mean."

"Well...after the Acathla and Angelus thing, we mostly spent the summer searching for you," Xander said. "Then the school year began...Faith arrived, as did Wes, and Angel came back. At Graduation, we were forced to fight the mayor who had turned into this huge snake demon..."

"Faith blew him up with explosives," Willow said. "And the school too."

Buffy turned to look at Faith. "You blew up Sunnydale High? Wicked!" Faith couldn't help but laugh slightly at this, as Buffy sounded so honestly appreciative. The Scoobies, however, stared at Buffy as though she'd grown a second head.

"_Wicked?__"_ Xander echoed dumbly in a whisper to Willow, and the red-head could only shrug in bewilderment.

"Yeah, it was cool," Faith said. "I heard you blew up your gym, once."

"Well, burned it down, really, but the end result is the same," Buffy shrugged. "What else?"

"The year after that is the year Oz left," Willow said, offering no explanations as to why. "Anya and Tara joined up, and we had to fight Adam, the Hellmouth's very own version of Frankenstein - a cross between robot, demon and human - that the government cooked up. They're the ones who placed the chip in Spike's head."

"We did a spell to invoke the powers of the Slayer lineage and merge our psyches with Faith to empower her enough to fight Adam," Xander said. "The guy was really strong. Of course, then the First Slayer tried to kill us in our sleep – "

"The Slayer lineage? The First Slayer?" Buffy asked, eager to find out more. "What do you know about her? Lately, I've been...well, I just want to know more, about what being the Slayer entails...about me."

Giles looked quite surprised at Buffy's question, as her origins had never been anything that had interested the Buffy he remembered. But he supposed the many years spent in a dimension not her own must have matured her. "If you want, you and I can speak more of this later, Buffy," he said. "And I believe you would benefit from a vision quest."

"A what?" Buffy asked, confused, even as Faith turned look at Giles, eyes narrowed.

"A vision quest," Giles repeated. "Past Slayers have found it helpful in...regaining their focus, learning more about their role."

"That sounds great," Buffy said, smiling at Giles. "And what about this year? Any new big bads?"

"A Hell God," Faith spoke up. "We had our final confrontation last night. She's gone now."

"Last night..." Buffy muttered. "Did anything happen during the battle that would explain how Remus and I landed here?"

"Yes," Angel said. "The Hell God, Glory, wanted to open a portal to her dimension in order to get home. She didn't care about the other dimensional rips she caused in the process – I think you must have been dragged through one of them, and that's why you're here."

Buffy nodded slowly. "That makes sense."

"And the rips...they've been closed?" Remus asked and Wesley nodded.

"How did you end up in another dimension in the first place, Buffy?" Xander asked.

"To be honest, I'm not quite sure. I was quite badly wounded from a fight with a demon when a portal opened up in the ground in front of me, and I was dragged in. When I came to, I was at Hogwarts, a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry, in Scotland. I promptly joined the student body, made some great friends," she flashed a smile at Remus, "and after Graduation, we joined the war effort."

"This demands research," Giles said, wiping his glasses. "If we're going to find a way to send Remus back to his dimension, we need to find the cause behind the portal that landed Buffy there."

Remus' stomach clenched again when Giles didn't say anything about Buffy returning with him: it was clear that thought hadn't even crossed his mind, nor anyone else's. Angel even looked relieved at the prospect of Remus leaving them.

"That would be great," Buffy said. "In the meantime, I should probably try and talk to my mom. We didn't part on the best of terms. Do you know where she is? This is still her house, right?"

Utter silence met her question.

* * *

"Dead." Buffy's shoulder slumped and Remus wrapped a comforting arm around her. They both sat on the porch to the house, Buffy having retreated there after Giles had broken the news of Joyce's death due to a brain aneurysm earlier that year. "Dead. She's gone, Re...and now I can never make things right."

"You heard what Giles said," Remus tried to comfort her. "She loved you, and missed you, and she was sorry – "

" – But we never got to say it to each other," Buffy cried out. "And it's terribly selfish of me, Re, but I'm jealous of Faith. From what Giles said, when she came to town, mom accepted her so easily, taking her in...giving her the house in her will... She accepted Faith, despite her being the Slayer, something she never did for me."

"She didn't get the chance," Remus said. "You were gone. I'm certain she would have accepted you. She just needed time, and when Faith came...she was probably feeling guilty from turning you away because of your destiny and felt she could make up for that by accepting another Slayer."

"It doesn't make it any less of a bitter pill to swallow," Buffy said. "And it's not just my mom. It's my friends too. Faith has essentially taken my place in their lives – "

"You're not being fair to Faith," Remus interrupted. "It's not like they replaced you. It's not like you replaced Willow and Xander with James, Sirius, Lily, Mandy and Samantha, is it?" _'__And__Angel__with__me,_' he added silently in his inner-most thoughts, where his fears and anxiety were deeply buried.

"I know I'm being stupid," Buffy snapped. "You don't have to tell me that. It's just...when I look at them, I see what I could have had. And it's not that I wish I never would have come to your world, because I don't, but I feel like a total stranger. Despite our joyful reunion, I don't know these people, not really. They're so different and we've all been through so many things since I left Sunnydale. Willow is so confident, not to mention bi, and Xander is less goofy, and Giles doesn't wear tweed anymore... And I don't know Anya, Tara or Wesley at all. And Spike is a Scooby now? I can't believe it."

"And Angel?" Remus asked, and Buffy shrugged.

"Angel is...Angel, and yet he isn't. Somehow, he's different too. Or maybe I am."

"Maybe you've all changed," Remus told her. "It's going to take time to re-adjust, Buffy, that's not strange at all."

"I know. I know it wasn't realistic of me to think everything would be the same as when I left, but...I can't help it." Remus said nothing to this. "It's just...not what I expected," Buffy finished weakly.

* * *

"Giles, a word," Faith grabbed the Watcher before he was about to leave the house.

"Faith." Giles said, looking at the dark Slayer. "What can I do for you?"

"This quest-thing you're taking Buffy on...why have you or Wes never taken me on something like that?" She was unable to hide the resentment in her voice.

Giles looked surprised. "Well, I suppose neither of us thought of it. I, at least, didn't feel you needed it." He smiled slightly. "You've always lived in the here and now, Faith, and being the Slayer has never been something that's bothered you. Buffy always had a little more trouble accepting that role, and it seems she has begun to wonder more about what that means for her. Information about past Slayers and your origins hasn't been something you've cared to know about."

"I see," Faith muttered.

Giles frowned slightly, sensing that Faith wasn't completely satisfied with his answer. "If the vision quest is something you want to undertake, Faith, I would be more than happy to – "

" – No, it's alright," Faith interrupted. "Like you said, I don't really care about stuff like that." Before Giles could answer, she left, moving quickly up the stairs.

Giles sighed, before he exited the house, almost stumbling upon Remus and Buffy, sitting on the porch. "Oh, so that's where you got to," the Watcher said, with a slight smile. "Hello."

"Hi," Buffy greeted him as Giles sat down beside her.

"How are you?" he asked kindly. "I imagine hearing about Joyce must have been a shock."

"Yeah. At least it explains why her bedroom was all dusty."

"Yes...we..." Giles cleared his throat. "We haven't gotten around to packing up her things yet...the possibility of an apocalypse got in the way, and...I also imagine Faith found it too painful."

"Hmm..." Buffy made a noncommittal sound, her expression tensing slightly when Giles mentioned Faith. "I imagine she has my room now?"

"Yes," Giles said carefully. "It...it doesn't really look like your room anymore."

"That doesn't surprise me," Buffy said, Remus taking her hand and squeezing it in comfort, sensing her rising resentment towards the other Slayer. "It seems like we've got two really different styles."

"Your things have been placed into boxes in the basement," Giles told her as he stood up. "I imagine you'll want to unpack them...perhaps you could move into your mother's bedroom?"

"Perhaps," Buffy answered evasively, a slight frown on her forehead. "Goodnight, Giles."

Giles smiled at her. "Goodnight, Buffy. I'm really glad you're back."

Buffy smiled back weakly. "Thanks."

As Giles left, Remus pulled her close, placing a kiss against her temple. Buffy leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. A stream of tears fell from beneath her lids, the shock and grief from the day's events finally catching up with her.

From a window on the upper floor, Faith looked down on them, her expression dark. In another window stood Angel, watching the same scene, his face impossible to read.

* * *

**23 May, 1980**

"Buffy?" James flooed into to the Lupin cottage. "Moony? Are you there? Dumbledore called an Order meeting about the attack on the library..." His face paled as he saw the destruction on the living room: several broken pieces from vases and other objects were strewn across the floor, which had broken apart. "Darn it!" He swore, throwing in new floo-powder into the fireplace. "Dumbledore's office!" He yelled, sticking his head through.

"James?" Dumbledore, who'd been about to exit the room, looked at his head floating in his fireplace, surprised. "I was just about to leave. I thought I told you to get Remus and Buffy?"

"I'm at their place right now, but there's no sign of them. I think they've been attacked!" James exclaimed.

Dumbledore frowned in worry. "That's not good." From the witness accounts gathered after the attack on the library, it was clear Voldemort had been after information about the Slayer. That he would make Buffy his next target made sense, but the Headmaster hadn't thought he'd be able to move quite so quickly. "I'm coming through."

James quickly removed his head from the fire, and three seconds later, Dumbledore stepped through, his wand pulled out. The Headmaster immediately began casting spells on their surroundings, and a glow filled the room. "There's been a powerful source of magical energy here," Dumbledore told James. "Extremely powerful."

"Voldemort?" James asked, worried.

"Oh, no," Dumbledore was smiling slightly. "There's nothing human about it. When I said _source,_ what I really meant was portal." He lowered his wand, and the glow disappeared.

James gawked at him. "Portal?" He echoed dumbly.

"Yes, a dimensional portal, to be exact. Wherever Buffy and Remus are now...they're not here. If I were to guess, I would say they are both in Buffy's dimension of origin."

James blinked. "But how? Did they find a way to create a portal on their own? If they did, wouldn't they have told us? I can't believe they would just leave like that..."

"Neither can I," Dumbledore said. "Especially as Buffy made it clear to me she no longer wished to return to her home dimension several months ago. No, I believe their disappearance from this plane was completely involuntary."

"But...when will they return?" James asked. "I mean...they will return, right?"

Dumbledore sighed. "That is impossible to foresee. Now, come. We have an Order meeting to attend, and a lot more to discuss than just the attack on the library, it seems."

"Right," James muttered, following Dumbledore out of the cottage, still in shock. He couldn't believe Remus and Buffy were gone... "Well, I hope they return sooner, rather than later."

"Yes," Dumbledore mumbled, saying nothing of his own hopes: that only Remus would come back. He still believed that Buffy belonged in her own world, even if she was a great help in the war. If he were to make a guess, he'd say that whatever powers had brought Buffy here had finally seen it fit to send her back. The dimensional balance had to be upheld, after all, and that meant having everyone in their rightful places - in their rightful dimensions.

* * *

**24 May, 2001**

The tension was high as Buffy and Faith stared at each other from their opposite sides of the kitchen counter the next morning, Remus observing them awkwardly from where he stood leaning against the sink.

"So...being a Vampire Slayer...how do you like it?" Buffy finally asked.

Faith's eyes narrowed. "I love being _The_ Vampire Slayer," she said, putting special emphasis on _the_– it was clear she didn't consider Buffy worthy of the role.

"Right," Buffy muttered, her lips breaking into a slight smile when she felt Remus send calming and comforting emotions across their bond. However, Faith took her twitch of lips for something else entirely.

"Are you laughing at me?" The dark haired Slayer demanded to know, and Buffy's head flew up, aghast.

"No!" She exclaimed. "Why would I do that?"

"You tell me," Faith challenged, crossing her arms. "Look, Buffy, you may have been all that several years ago, but things change. You don't belong here anymore."

"That's not for you to decide," Buffy said quietly. "But I'm not here to take your place_.__"_

Faith snorted. "Like you could."

Buffy clenched her fists, her mouth opening, a rather scathing retort at the ready. Before she could utter it, however, the sound of the outer door slamming open, and the chattering voices of Willow and Xander could be heard, interrupting what was surely about to turn into a loud argument. "Hi Buffy!" Willow said, her short red locks bouncing as she entered the kitchen, Xander in tow.

"Hi," Buffy greeted, a smile on her lips. "I like the haircut, by the way."

Willow beamed. "Thanks."

"So...where are Anya and Tara?" Buffy asked.

"They decided not to come," Xander said. "You don't really know them, and Willow and I were hoping we could talk to you without anyone else involved. We didn't really get a chance to talk yesterday – "

" – No problem!" Buffy said brightly. "Let's go." In the doorway, she paused, turning to face Remus. "You'll be alright on your own, right?"

Remus smiled at her. "Of course I will."

Buffy grinned. Ten seconds later, she, Willow and Xander had left the house.

"And there they go," Faith muttered, a shadow crossing her face for a moment. "I have a feeling the two of us are about to become rather superfluous."

"I doubt that," Remus said, trying to stall the uncertainty in his chest.

Faith snorted. "There's nothing to doubt. If you'd heard all the stories about the wonderful Buffy that I have, you'd know it." She sounded bitter. "The original three Scoobies, together again. No one will ever come between them, believe me. I tried, and I was only fighting against the _memory_ of Buffy. Now that she's actually here...trust me – we're about to be forgotten."

Remus frowned.

* * *

Buffy let out a wistful sigh of remembrance as she walked down the Sunnydale main street with Willow and Xander, all of them hesitant to speak first. "Great weather, huh?" Willow finally asked, in a see-through attempt to break the ice.

"Yeah," Xander hurriedly agreed. "I bet you've missed the sun and heat, huh, Buff? Constant rain – can't be good for your complexion."

Buffy cocked her head. "It didn't really rain as much in Britain as I thought it would, now that I think about it. But yeah, I've kind of missed the Californian weather."

"Well, maybe we could go to the beach sometime?" Willow suggested. "To give you a chance to work on your non-existent tan."

Buffy grinned, imagining Remus massaging her back with sunscreen lotion, a rather silly expression appearing on her face for a second or two. "Yeah. That would be awesome..."

"Buff...drooling," Xander's lips twitched.

"Oh!" Buffy quickly jerked out of her thoughts, rather regretfully leaving behind her daydream of Remus, wet and dripping with sea water... "Sorry."

"So...you and that Remus guy...how did that happen?" Willow asked, curiously.

"I'm not sure. It just did. We started out as friends, and then that friendship just grew into something more."

"Well, at least he's got a heartbeat," Xander tried to joke, but the humour fell flat at Buffy's glare. "Just saying."

"When did that portal drop you in another dimension, anyway, Buffy?" Willow wondered. "Was it right after facing Angelus and Acathla, or...?"

"No, I was patrolling in LA, actually. I'd been living there for awhile – "

" - You ran away to LA?" Xander interrupted, voice harsh and accusing. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? How could you just do that, Buffy?"

"Well, I sure don't know, Xander," Buffy answered sarcastically, "could it be that I'd just been forced to kill the man I loved? Or that I was wanted for murder? Or that I got expelled and kicked out of my house by my own mother? I needed some time alone to grieve and recover, and I'm not going to apologise for that! Yes, maybe I should have told you, or at least told Giles, but I wasn't exactly in a clear state of mind. I honestly thought that you'd be better off without me, considering how hurt you were. Kendra was killed! And I did check to see if you were okay, even if I didn't let you see me."

"We could have helped you – " Willow began, in a rather wounded tone, but Buffy interrupted her:

"Helped me do what? None of you were all that supportive of my relationship with Angel. You wouldn't have understood. Giles disapproved, not to mention Angel tortured him and killed Jenny - he had enough to deal with without adding my grief to it. Mom never could accept my destiny as the Slayer - when I first told her, right after being called, she and dad threw me into a mental hospital. Xander, you never made it a secret that you disliked Angel, and Willow, you could have told me you were going to do a soul-restoring spell, but instead, you told Xander to tell me to kick his ass!"

Willow gawked at her in shock, looking offended. "I did not!"

"But then why - ?" It didn't take long for Buffy to connect the dots.

She and Willow both turned to look at Xander, who flushed. "Well, okay, so I may have a lied a tiny little bit."

"A tiny little bit?" Buffy repeated incredulously.

"I did what I felt was right!" Xander defended himself stubbornly. "If you had known there was a chance Angel's soul would be restored, you would have held back when fighting him – "

" - You can't know that! Since when I have ever I let my personal feelings get in the way of doing my duty?" Buffy asked frostily. "Didn't the prophecy about me and the master teach you that much? I went to face him, knowing I would probably die – "

" - It's not the same. You've always had blinders on when it comes to Angel, and if you had hesitated the slightest when fighting him, he would have killed you," Xander said stubbornly. "I couldn't risk that. I am not proud of what I did, but I'm not sorry I did it."

Buffy clenched her jaw. She understood where Xander was coming from, but he still had had no right to lie to her, especially not in Willow's name.

"I'm not any happier than you are, but Xander has a point, Buffy," Willow said hesitantly.

Buffy only clenched her jaw, still angry. It had been years, but what had she had been forced to do that day - kill Angel - it still hurt. And now, knowing that certain facts had been held back from her, she couldn't help but wonder 'what if?' If she had known, could she have prevented Angelus from unleashing Acathla's power all together? But that brought her to another if - if she had been able to save Angel, along with the world, would she still have been in LA that summer? It was unlikely.

She would never have saved Lily (Anne now, if she had kept that name) or all the other kids, and she wouldn't have been fighting the demon that had gotten the best of her... She wouldn't have been in the alley when the portal opened...she wouldn't have met Remus, or Lily, or any of the others, and that hurt even more than Xander's lie. So, when thinking about all the way things could have been different, maybe it had been for the best. But at the same time, Buffy couldn't help but wonder what her present would look like, if Angel had survived that day... "Let's just drop it," she said, knowing that the thoughts currently running through her head wouldn't lead to any good.

Both Willow and Xander looked relieved. An even heavier silence settled over the three original Scoobies. Several times, one of them would open their mouth to say something, but didn't. Without realising it, they found themselves outside what remained of Sunnydale High. "Makes you flash back to the good old days, huh?" Xander joked half-heartedly, glancing at Buffy out of the corner of his eyes. "Brings back memories..."

Buffy stared at the scorched, destroyed exterior of the school, and nodded slowly. "Yes," she agreed. But deep down, she that was also all it was - memories. Flashes of a time gone by, of simpler days, of laughter and homework and danger that didn't seem all that serious at all in comparison to what was happening in the Wizarding World. Had anyone noticed they were gone yet? She was still torn between two worlds, it seemed.

"Mochas, monsters and mayhems," Buffy said thoughtfully, breaking out of her thoughts. "What happened to Snyder, by the way? Is he still around, spoiling everyone's fun?"

"No, he got eaten," Willow supplied.

Buffy blinked. "Wow. Was it hyenas again?"

"The mayor actually," Xander said.

"The mayor?"

"After his ascension at Graduation," Willow quickly said. "So there was no cannibalistic ending for Snyder."

"Huh," Buffy stated eloquently. "I kind of thought Snyder would still be a permanent, annoying fixture – you know, that, because of his inherent nastiness, all the evils of the Hellmouth would flock _around_him rather than chew him up."

"It wasn't so much a 'chew' as a 'chomp,'" Xander admitted. "There one second, gone the next."

"What is Oz doing nowadays?" Buffy questioned after another long and heavy silence.

"He couldn't control his wolf," Willow said, sounding sad. "One thing led to another, and before I knew it, he'd left town." She decided to leave out the Veruca thing, not feeling comfortable enough to tell Buffy about it, at least not right now.

"Wow," Buffy mumbled. "Do you know if he found any success? In controlling his furry little problem?" Remus lack of control was one of the things he hated about himself, that made him see his lycanthropy as a weakness. If Oz had found a way to 'tame' his inner-beast without the presence of a soulmate...well, Buffy wanted to know about it.

"Furry little what?" Xander echoed dumbly, and Buffy flushed slightly.

"It's what a few of our friends' call Remus' lycanthropy."

"Oh."

"Umm...he found some success, in Tibet," Willow told Buffy, bringing the conversation back on track. "Oz was even able to keep himself from transforming for awhile, until he came back and realised Tara and I were together. I guess negative emotions caused him to lose the control he managed to gain. The energies from the Hellmouth probably didn't help either. So he kind of left again."

Buffy's eyes had widened when she heard Oz had managed to keep himself from transforming completely. While Remus and Oz belonged in different dimensions, that didn't necessarily mean that whatever Oz had managed was impossible for Remus to achieve. "Do you know how to get a hold of him?" She asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling with excitement. If Remus could keep himself from transforming, his life would be so much easier in many ways... The prejudice might lessen...he would be happier with himself...the possibilities Buffy could see were only positive!

"I have his phone-number, if you want it," Willow offered tentatively, and Buffy nodded empathically.

"Definitely." She gave the school-building one last, long look. Suddenly, she felt exhausted. Seeing all the places around town that she remembered, so changed and different, was making her stomach clench uncomfortably. And talking to Willow and Xander was like taking a ride on an emotional rollercoaster, trying to find something to talk about one minute and fighting the next. And then, the next moment, they would get along just fine: but it didn't escape Buffy's notice that the 'getting along fine'-part only happened when they were catching up on events that had already occurred.

Just like Sunnydale High, it seemed her easy friendship with Willow and Xander was broken, or at least severely cracked at the edges, and she longed for the easiness she shared with Lily and the other marauders. Turning her eyes upwards, towards the California blue sky, she wondered if she would ever feel completely content: if the day would come when she would stop wishing for what she didn't have.

* * *

**__****Published: **_20__/10 -11_

* * *

**Trivia**

- In BTVS 3x22: Graduation Day – Part Two, Buffy blew up Sunnydale High and the ascended mayor along with it. With Faith being the only Sunnydale Slayer instead, the honour went to her.  
- Before moving to Sunnydale, Buffy burnt down the gym to her High School in LA while battling vampires inside, and was expelled as a result.  
- Since Joyce Summer's death, as experienced in BTVS 4x16: The Body, was due to natural causes, it still would have occurred even without Buffy's presence.  
- Flutie was the principal of Sunnydale High for the first part of season 1, before he was eaten by students possessed by the spirit of a Hyena pack.  
- Snyder was swallowed whole by Mayor Wilkins after he ascended into a gigantic snakelike demon in Graduation Day.  
- Veruca was another werewolf who Oz cheated on Willow with. Oz later killed Veruca when she tried to kill Willow. Afterwards, Oz left Sunnydale to find a cure for his lycanthropy.


	10. Quest

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR  
I am so sincerely sorry for the long wait you had to endure for this chapter. I can only apologize. I really have no excuse, other than real life. I hope you enjoy this chapter: real life is still a b-tch so expect updates every three weeks rather than every other week, at least for while, as I adjust to slowly having more spare-time again! /Ida

* * *

**25 May, 2001**

"Okay...when I hear the words _Giles_ and_ car_...this is _not_ what I expected," Buffy said honestly, looking at the bright red convertible sporty car incredulously. "What happened to the Citroën anyway?"

"Spike crashed it," Giles said sourly, clearly still put out over it. "But there is nothing wrong with this one."

Buffy quirked an eyebrow, wondering who Giles was trying to convince. Giles flushed. "There's not! It took me awhile to get used to the automatic transmission, but now it rolls very smoothly, and that's what matters."

"But it's not why you bought it," Buffy sing-songed as she opened the door and sat down in the passenger seat. "The purchase of this car was clearly you acting out due to a mid-life crisis."

Giles made a weird clucking sound with his tongue as he sank down into the driver's seat and started the engine. "Don't be ridiculous," he muttered. "Like I would be that shallow." Buffy's lips twitched.

They began to drive to the desert where Buffy would undertake the vision quest in a silence that was finally broken by Giles: "I must say I am a bit curious, Buffy. I never imagined you would be interested in the Slayer origins, or anything to do with it, really."

"Me neither," Buffy answered. "But things change, I guess. I went through some...issues in the other dimension that made me scrutinize myself more and realize how little I really know about my heritage and destiny." She glanced at her Watcher. "I'm hoping this quest may clear some things up."

Giles nodded. "It should. Records of previous Slayers who have undertaken it show that it served to give them more strength and determination."

"Has Faith done it?" Buffy wondered.

Giles shook his head. "No. To be honest, I never felt she needed it."

"Speaking of Faith," Buffy continued hesitantly. "What's she like?"

"Oh, she's very spirited," Giles chuckled. "Brash, impulsive, impatient...somewhat reckless. But she's a good Slayer. She has that spark, that passion which always made you so brilliant and made me want to tear my hair out in frustration at the same time."

Buffy smiled weakly. "Is it wrong of me to be jealous of her, Giles? It feels like she's taken my place."

"Buffy..." Giles turned to look at her. "No one could ever replace you. But if it makes you feel better, Faith feels the same way: I believe Wesley was going to talk to her about it."

"She does?" Buffy sounded surprised. "Somehow, I have trouble believing that. She seems so confident and self-assured."

"You're only seeing what Faith wants you to see, Buffy," Giles sighed. "Deep down, Faith is really a quite uncertain young woman. Her upbringing was the very opposite of yours – Faith didn't have anything, and didn't have any prospects for the future. And so, when she was called as the Slayer, she embraced it wholly, with an eagerness bordering on dangerous. When she came to Sunnydale, she had just lost her first Watcher and was in desperate need of guidance and friendship. That I, your friends, and your mother, could offer her that, did her a lot of good and helped her grow up. As different as you are, I believe that if you both got over your envy of each other, you would get along very well."

Buffy nodded slowly. "Did mom talk about me much?" She asked. "After I disappeared?"

"Not a lot, at least not to me. But I believe it was a painful subject. It was clear she resented me for your disappearance. I can't blame her, really," Giles said ruefully.

Buffy frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You clearly didn't trust me enough to come to me after killing Angel," Giles said honestly. "For months after you left, I kept wondering if I could have done anything differently as your Watcher...obviously, I wasn't as approachable as I could have – "

" – No, Giles, my leaving had nothing to do with me not trusting you!" Buffy protested, shocked that he felt that way. "I left because I was a coward. Angel was gone and you and Willow were so badly injured, and I blamed myself... That I ran was not because of anything you did or didn't do. It was all me, unable to deal. It took me the entire summer to get past it, and when I was ready to return, the portal happened."

"Hmm...yes, the portal," Giles mumbled. "I imagine it was quite an adjustment to land in another world... Do you feel like you fit in, in that dimension?"

"A lot better than I thought I would," Buffy said honestly. "And at the same time...not really. I'm the Slayer, but for awhile, I tried so hard to forget all that and be the normal girl I always wished to be, and a witch, and then the Slayer again, and all at the same time. It's something I'm still struggling with...finding the balance. That's partly why I'm going on this quest thing."

"And Remus...he is your boyfriend now?"

"Yes," Buffy said. "I love him. But seeing Angel again...it's hard, not just because I didn't expect to ever face him again, but also because it drags up so many memories and emotions I thought were long gone."

"Well, I don't think I ever made it a secret that I didn't particularly like the relationship between you and Angel," Giles said with a frown. "And it seems Remus has been good for you. The only obstacle in your path – and it's unfortunately quite a big one - seems to be that you both belong in different worlds."

"Yeah..." Buffy whispered, still not sure which world she wanted to be in.

* * *

"Hi, Remus, right?" Remus blinked, turning around to look at the blonde who had spoken.

"Yes. And you're Tara."

"Yes. Umm... Anya, Xander, Willow and I were about to sit down and talk in the living room for a bit, and were w-wondering if you would like to join us?"

While not overly enthusiastic about the prospect of being forced to answer whatever questions they were surely going to throw at him when Buffy was away, Remus could see no reason to decline. He had no idea how long he would end up staying here, and these were Buffy's friends, so he should make an effort. And something about Tara's honest expression as she asked spoke to him: for a moment, she reminded him of Samantha.

"I'd love to," Remus said, and Tara smiled.

"Great!"

Remus followed Tara into the living room, hesitantly sitting down in a free armchair. The conversation began to flow easily, Anya talking about some customer she had had in the magic shop, the others interrupting with comments now and then. None of them seemed to expect any active participation from Remus, and he found himself begin to relax.

Of course, that's when Anya finished her story, and Xander spoke up: "How long have you and Buffy been together, Remus?"

'_And let the interrogation commence,_' Remus thought to himself. "Almost three years."

"Wow, that is long," Xander muttered.

"Was it d-difficult for Buffy to adjust to live in your world?" Tara wondered, and Remus smiled at her.

"At first, because everything was so new for her. That she is the Slayer and used to supernatural things probably eased the transition a lot, though."

"Is Buffy any good at magic?" Anya asked.

"Yes," Remus said firmly. "She is. When she arrived, Dumbledore – the school's Headmaster – had her join our year, and she had to learn over six years worth of education in less than ten months in order to pass her finals."

"It must be so exciting to live in a magical society," Willow sighed, looking rather dreamy. "Isn't it?"

"Well, I more or less grew up in it, so for me, it's normal," Remus shrugged. "For other people who didn't though, I imagine it would be, at least to begin with."

"It must make things so easy, to be able to magically fix everything – "

" – Hardly," Remus interrupted Willow. "Like every society, we have our fair share of difficulties."

Willow frowned. "But you can use magic, everyday! Why can't you just - "

"I'm afraid you might have misunderstood what it's like in our world," Remus interrupted. "We can't just wave our wands and make every problem go away, it doesn't work like that. We have laws and restrictions, of course, but just like in every civilisation, there are also people who break those laws. _Everyone_ there is capable of using magic, Willow, and not all of them use it for good."

"Like the people you're fighting against in that war," Xander stated, and Remus nodded.

"Yes. Being here when it is going on...I worry something will happen to my friends. It seems like the time moves at the same speed here as it does in my world, which is a relief. Still, a lot of things can happen in a few days, especially when you're in the thick of fighting, like they are. Buffy and I have lost so many people close to us already."

Willow spoke up again, a slight frown still on her face: "And speaking of Buffy..."

As she asked another question about Buffy's life in the Wizarding World, Remus let out a sigh, settling himself in for a discussion that was undoubtedly about to become exhausting.

* * *

Giles parked his car in the middle of the desert, among some sandy dunes with some scraggly bushes. Slowly, they got out, Giles opening the trunk. "What's in the trunk?" Buffy asked.

"Supplies," Giles answered.

"Supplies, huh? I was wondering about that. Like food, water…maybe a compass?"

Giles straightened up. "What about a book, a gourd, and a bunch of twigs?" He said, holding out the three objects for Buffy, who wrinkled her nose.

"Ritual stuff, then."

"Yes," Giles nodded. They began to walk across the sand. "You see, the location of the sacred place where you will undergo your quest is a guarded secret. I can't take you there myself. The ritual will…transfer my guardianship of you, temporarily, to a guide." He came to a stop, putting the stuff down. "This will do."

"So…this guide will lead me to the sacred place, and then a week later, it leads you to my bleached bones?"

Giles gave her an exasperated, but fond look – he had missed Buffy's wit and sarcasm. "Buffy, please. It takes more than a week to bleach bones."

Buffy grinned, as Giles kneeled on the ground and arranging the twigs around himself. "So, how does the ritual work?"

Giles coughed uncomfortably. "I, uh…jump out of the circle and then jump back in it, and then, um…" He flushed. "I shake my gourd."

Buffy couldn't help but laugh. "I know this ritual! The ancient shamans were next called upon to do the hokey-pokey and turn themselves around."

Giles threw her a sour look. "Go Quest." Buffy didn't move, but her eyes twinkled mischievously as an embarrassed Giles sighed and rolled his eyes, as he jumped into the circle of twigs, jumped out again, and shook the gourd. Buffy burst out laughing. "Oh, just get going, will you?" Giles snapped fondly, sitting down and opening the book.

"Yes, sir," Buffy saluted, beginning to walk across the planes, alone, leaving Giles, reading from the book out loud, behind.

Buffy had been walking for quite some time, when she heard a growling noise to her left. Slowly, she turned around, catching sight of a coyote, its fur a gleaming golden blonde that harmonized with the desert sand it was sitting on. "Hello," Buffy mumbled, feeling slightly comforted by the fact that its looks reminded her a little bit of Remus' werewolf-form. "I'm guessing you're going to lead me to the sacred place, huh?"

The coyote began to walk and Buffy followed it through a passageway made by two large outcroppings of rock, to a large expanse of sandy desert. There, Buffy sat down, looking around, shivering slightly. It was getting colder, the sun fading, and after awhile, her head dropped, her eyes closing. An owl hooted, and Buffy jerked up, sighing, before her eyes closed again, night falling over the desert around her.

* * *

Remus walked out of the house with a tired yawn, finally escaping the conversation with Willow, Xander, Tara and Anya. As he had thought, it had ended up being more of an interrogation about Buffy than anything else. Breathing in the cold night-air from his place on the porch, he fixed his eyes on the length of the street, hoping Buffy would return soon. He bit his lip, feeling slightly worried: while he had no idea how long a vision quest was supposed to take, he thought she should have been back by now.

A slight rustling of leaves made him stand up, and within two seconds, his wand was outstretched, the bright light of a silently cast _'lumos' _whichilluminated the part of the garden he had heard the sound coming from. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw who it was. "Oh, it's you," he muttered and lowered his wand slightly, but not completely. Warily, he watched as Angel left the shadows behind the tree and joined him on the porch.

"You're quite alert," the vampire noted, sounding quite wary himself.

"Yes, well, I am a werewolf," Remus said. "And I am fighting in a war – if you don't pay attention, you're likely to get killed."

Angel grunted. "True."

A heavy silence fell between them, but to Remus' slight surprise, it wasn't very awkward or uncomfortable at all, and he pocketed his wand. He was jealous of the closeness Angel and Buffy had once shared, and he still feared that Buffy would leave him now when she had been reunited with him and her friends, but he had to trust that their love was strong enough. Acting like a resentful berk or hating the man wouldn't help any.

"So..." Angel asked after a few seconds, quite surprised that Lupin wasn't trying to threaten him or telling him to keep away from what was 'his.' The fact that he didn't said a lot about him, and his estimation of the werewolf rose somewhat. "How did you and Buffy meet?"

A slight smile appeared at the corner of Remus' lips. "She fell from a portal and landed in the middle of our school's dining hall while everyone was eating. Of course, she was out cold and wounded at a time, so maybe that doesn't count. The first time we met when we were both conscious was later, after she woke up in the hospital wing."

Angel nodded slowly. "And..." he cleared his throat slightly, "when did you...ah...when did you become..."

"A couple?" Remus glanced at him and Angel nodded, not able to bring himself to say the word. Though he may not..._dislike _Lupin as much as he expected, it definitely didn't mean he was happy that he was with Buffy, and he was not about to give them his blessing any time soon. "Maybe two months after that," Remus revealed. "And it wasn't exactly a smooth road to get there." His eyes glazed over slightly as he recalled Buffy nearly killing him during a full-moon, the disagreements they had had about his inability to accept his werewolf-side, and the time it took for Buffy to get past what had happened with Angel. "Buffy was...well, she was grieving for a long while after she arrived. She may not always have shown it, but it was impossible to miss. I know that what you shared was remarkably strong and it took her quite some time before she dared to move on and even try to be happy."

"She was unhappy?" There was a frown on Angel's face.

"To begin with. Who wouldn't be? I'd like to think her friends and I made things a little easier for her, though. Lily, in particular, was a really big support for her."

"Lily?"

"Her best friend," Remus clarified. "Red-head, scarily smart, a temper a sane person would never cross. Unless you're named James Potter and too infatuated to realise it."

Angel snorted. The two fell silent again. "Do you love her?" Angel finally asked, and Remus turned to look at him.

"With all my heart," he said, and it was impossible to miss the sincerity in Remus' voice, or the utter love and devotion in his eyes.

Angel nodded sharply. "Good."

They both returned to keep a silent vigil over the street, waiting for the woman they had both given their undying love to.

* * *

The sound of a crackling fire made Buffy open her eyes and sit up with a frown. "Hello? Who's there?" Buffy narrowed her eyes: on the other side of the fire, she could see someone, but the flames were nearly obscuring the figure. Despite that, something in Buffy's gut told her she knew this person from somewhere… "You're the First Slayer," Buffy breathed, remembering the story she had read in the book Dumbledore had given her. "Sineya."

"This is a form. I am the guide," the woman said, her voice filled with mystique.

"Alrighty then," Buffy muttered. "I have a few questions…about…what dimension I belong to. And being the Slayer…what does that mean, exactly?"

"It means what it means," the First Slayer said mysteriously. "What you chose for it to mean."

"That's not even remotely helpful," Buffy said bluntly. "I don't understand. I'm…what I really want to know is how I find a balance, between being a witch, the Slayer…and me. How do I do that?"

The First Slayer cocked her head. "Why are you trying to separate yourself into three? You are who you are."

Buffy frowned. "But that's just it. I don't know – "

" – You are who you are," the first Slayer repeated, almost sternly. "One. Not three. Whole, not broken, unless you let yourself become so."

Buffy took a deep breath. "So what you're really saying is that I need to stop trying to figure out whether I should be a witch, a girl, or the Slayer first? Because there is no right order? Because I am all these three things at the same time and I need to accept all…three pieces of me as a whole and stop them from…fighting each other? Because it's only when they are combined that I am truly me?"

The First Slayer just smiled.

"Right," Buffy muttered. "Easier said than done." But she did feel somewhat comforted. "And…my other question. What world do I belong to?"

"It is not the world that matters," the First Slayer spoke. "It is the people. Your friends. Family. Where does your heart lie?"

"Yeah, that's kind of what I'm hoping you'll tell me," Buffy said.

"But it is _your _heart," the guide said. "Only you can decide where it will lead. You decide your own destiny. Only you have the power to shape the path ahead." Confused, Buffy wanted to ask what that meant, but before she could, the guide continued: "You are so full of love. Do not reject it."

Buffy frowned. "Why would I reject it?"

The First Slayer looked at her. "You love with all of your soul. It is brighter than fire...blinding. It scares you. Love can be painful, and the Slayer forges strength from pain. Love...give…and receive in return. Risk the pain. It is your nature. Your gift."

Buffy blinked. "My gift?"

"Yes." The First Slayer smiled then, sadly. "Death was my gift."

"Death…"

"…was my gift," the First Slayer repeated.

"But it's not mine," Buffy clarified, her stomach churning uncomfortably as she realized Sineya must have meant she only found peace in death. "Right? Instead, you're telling me my gift is my pain?" She felt extremely confused.

"Your gift is your love and the love you get in return," the First Slayer clarified, and for a moment, the face of Remus flashed before Buffy's mind's eye.

"Do not reject it," Buffy muttered softly, repeating the first Slayer's words to herself.

"Your questions have been answered," the First Slayer said, and she, as well as the fire, faded away. Buffy frowned as she stared out across the cold, grey rocks and sand, lost in thought. Finally, after several minutes, she stood up, and began the long trek back to Giles and the car.

* * *

Buffy stepped out of Giles' car, her eyebrows rising in surprise when she saw both Angel and Remus standing on the porch, beside one another. "Were you both waiting for me?"

Angel smiled at her. "Of course."

Buffy chuckled lightly, taking Remus' hand in hers. She was rather surprised at the lack of any conflict between the two men of her heart, but was glad for it. That neither of them were acting like a six-year old and fighting over the last cookie lifted a great weight from her shoulders. As she, Remus and Giles, entered the house, Angel choosing to leave, she allowed herself to completely relax for the first time since she came back to Sunnydale.

Willow, Xander, Wesley, Tara and Anya were sitting in front of the television. Faith was just entering the room, a stake in her hand. "I'm going out to patrol," the dark-haired Slayer told them, not noticing Buffy in the hallway. "Need to unwind. Do you guys want to come?"

Remembering the conversation she and Giles had had in the car, Buffy spoke up in attempt to reach out to the other Slayer: "I'll come," she said, and everyone turned around, Faith looking quite surprised at her offer.

"Buffy!" Xander got to his feet. "You're back. How was your quest-thingy?"

"Enlightening," Buffy said. "So...what do you say, Faith? Can I come along?"

Slowly, Faith nodded, looking slightly suspicious. "Alright."

"I'll go with you as well," Wesley said, standing up.

"Me too," Giles said. "It will be interesting to see how well you've retained your fighting abilities, Buffy."

"Well, have fun," Xander said, sitting back down, figuring two Slayers, two Watchers and a werewolf would be enough for even the Sunnydale population to deal with: all of them coming along would only be unnecessary and might do more harm than good, even if he wanted to see Buffy in action again as well.

"Yeah, cause there's always a lot of that going around on the Hellmouth," Anya said sarcastically.

* * *

"So..." Faith said, her and Buffy walking a bit ahead of the others. "What made you offer back there? Because if you were hoping to find my fighting abilities lacking – "

" – Chill, Faith," Buffy sighed. "I'm not out to get you, okay? I think things would be a lot easier on both of us if we could at least attempt to be civil."

"Fair enough," Faith said. "Sorry if I've been a bit stand-offish," she added a second later, rather grudgingly, but Buffy did have a point. And Faith was rather curious about her, as much as she tried not to be.

"That's okay. I guess I haven't been the most gracious guest either."

"You're not a guest, though," Faith reminded her, and Buffy pursed her lips.

"Aren't I? I don't know...it feels like I am, at least a little bit. Hanging out with Willow and Xander this morning...it felt a bit odd. And I have no idea why I'm telling you this."

Faith smirked. "Maybe it's easier to talk to me because you don't particularly like me," she suggested.

"I don't particularly dislike you, either," Buffy countered. "But I don't know you. And I guess I'm sort of jealous."

"Of me?" Faith sounded astonished. "Why the hell would you be jealous of me for?"

Buffy shrugged. "Mom accepted you, something she never did for me. She took you in... Giles is your mentor now, not mine, and Willow and Xander are your friends, while I may just as well be a total stranger to them. Oz and Cordy aren't around anymore...and Angel..." Buffy let out a puff of air. "Let's not even go there."

Faith snorted. "Well, if it helps, I'm sort of jealous of you too. You share this whole past with them that I wasn't a part of. When we were waiting for you to wake up...everyone was so excited, giddy, even. I've never seen them like that. And it feels like I've been living in your shadow – the stories about you they used to tell...it's a lot to live up to."

"You shouldn't have to live up to anything," Buffy said, with a slight frown. "You're not me; you're your own person. And I may share a past with them, but for every second I spend here, I'm starting to realize that's all it is: a past. And maybe that's where it should stay." Buffy shrugged. "I'm not sure what I expected really, when I woke up here. To think everything would be just the way I left it...it was naive. And even if it had been, I'm not sure I would feel like I fit in any better. I've changed: it's as simple as that."

"We've both been rather stupid, haven't we?" Faith said ruefully. "We're both Slayers – we should get along."

Buffy smiled. "Truce?"

"Truce," Faith agreed, grinning. They reached the first cemetery, which, coincidentally had some night-time visitors already: Spike and Angel, fighting a group of demons and two vampires. Buffy guessed Angel must have headed straight to the cemetery after leaving Revello Drive earlier.

Over the sound of violence, they could hear Angel yell at the peroxide-blonde vampire: "Did you have to deliberately antagonise them? We're getting our asses kicked thanks to you!"

"I thought we were two against two," Spike shouted back while ducking a hard swing from one of the demons. "How was I supposed to know they had backup?"

Angel rolled his eyes, "Gee, maybe the demons barbecuing a kitten over that fire over there should have given you the first clue that they were not alone!"

"They were barbecuing a kitten?" Buffy whispered, looking over at the remains of a fire between some of the gravestones.

"Yuck," Faith agreed. "Hey!" She hollered, and Angel, Spike and the opponents they were fighting turned to stare at them. "How about you leave the two losers alone – " both Angel and Spike threw her offended looks, "and pick on someone with your own - eh – " She glanced at Buffy, realising 'size' wouldn't really work considering of the way the demons towered over them.

" - strength?" Buffy suggested with a grin.

"That'll work," Faith nodded, throwing herself into the fray with abandon, Buffy following her.

Remus unconsciously clutched his wand tighter, watching the two Slayers worriedly, wanting to help but afraid he would hit either Faith or Buffy accidentally if he cast a spell. "So...those are demons?" He asked instead, his eyes wide.

"Yes," Wesley said, looking at him curiously. "Do you not have them in your dimension?"

"They exist, but they're really rare – I've never seen one."

Wesley nodded, going back to watching the fighting. Angel and Spike were taking on one vampire each, and Spike, at least, was only playing with his opponent: Angel seemed a tad distracted – every now and then, he would turn his head to check on Buffy.

The two Slayers were a magnificent sight against the group of four demons. It was like a dance: Faith's movements were all passion, filled with drive, strength, and an untamed wildness. Buffy's on the other hand were more refined: she had a graceful fluidity to her actions, filled with vivacity and fire. Together, they complemented each other very well, each seemed to instinctively know the move the other person was about to make next, which made them a force to be reckoned with.

"I never thought I would see two Slayers fighting alongside each other like this," Wesley mused, sounding rather awed.

"Buffy has lost some of her technique," Remus heard Giles comment. "But there is more originality and variety in her movements now, instead... she's very unpredictable...that combination! Wonderful!"

Wesley chuckled. "I don't think it matters that she has lost some technique. Faith gets along just fine without it, for the most part. She's always been a bit of a brawler. In can be rather restrictive, in a way that instinct isn't."

"Yes, I suppose each Slayer has to find what works for them," Giles agreed. "Kendra was brilliant at technique, but she did lack some imagination."

At that moment, Buffy took an uppercut to the jaw, stumbling back a few steps. Faith immediately kicked the responsible demon sideways in the face, but lost sight of the two others she'd been fighting for a second. It was enough – one of them grabbed her outstretched leg, and before she could react, Faith found herself face first on the ground.

"I've told that girl to never take her eye of the opponent, but does she listen?" Wesley grumbled slightly.

It was Giles' turn to chuckle. "I suppose the line between intuition and impulsiveness becomes rather fine, sometimes. She did it to help Buffy."

"Well, she seems to have things well in hand," Wesley said dryly, and it was true: Buffy had quickly recovered from the blow and was managing just fine in holding back two demons on her own while Faith got up. Angel and Spike had dusted their adversaries and was now fighting the two others.

"I am quite impressed," Giles said. "I was afraid Buffy would be rusty, but she is handling herself almost impeccably, even outnumbered."

"Yes, well, while she hasn't gotten the chance to fight any demons, she has faced a few vampires, if not as regularly as she used to here," Remus said proudly. "And when we're on a battlefield, there's so much going on around us, with spells flying in every direction. We've been forced to get used to facing several people at once and looking over our shoulders while in combat."

"Anyone brought a sword?" Faith yelled at them, as she got back to her feet.

Finally realising a way he could help, Remus quickly conjured up two plain swords – creating metals was quite difficult, so they weren't very sturdy, nor would they last all that long, but they would work well enough. "Buffy!" He yelled to get her attention, and swished his wand: the swords floated over to right beside the fighting group, and it was easy for Faith and Buffy to grab them, before the bewildered demons could react.

"Thanks, Re!" Buffy said chirpily, and quickly stabbed one of the demons in the chest, before beheading the one Angel was fighting, while Faith was doing the same to the third demon, leaving only one, who quickly backed away and began to run, to no avail: Buffy threw her sword forward, impaling him from behind, and he fell to the ground, dead. "That's for burning that kitten, you utter ass!"

"That was some cool mojo," Faith told Remus appreciatively as he walked up to them, clapping him on the back.

Spike threw him a sour glare. "You couldn't have conjured up two more, when you were at it?"

Remus shrugged. "Conjuring metal isn't my strong suit and I figured two swords were enough between the four of you, what with Buffy and Faith both being Slayers, and I was right."

"Of course you were," Faith laughed and high-fived Buffy. "We're the Chosen two, B, how does that feel?" She and Buffy both looked a lot more relaxed than before.

"Pretty neat," Buffy admitted. "Calling me 'B,' however...less so."

Faith snorted and slung an arm around her. "Well, you better get used to it, girlfriend."

"I've been trying to get her to stop calling me 'G' for ages, with no success," Giles said with a long-suffering sigh.

"Like I said – you better get used to it," Faith repeated with a grin.

* * *

**27 May, 2001**

Buffy stepped into the living room, only to be met by Angel, talking to someone on a cordless phone. She inwardly sighed – the two of them really needed to have a long talk. Angel had been remarkably patient, something Buffy was extremely grateful for. That he and Remus weren't at each other's throats also made things easier, though in some ways, it was rather disconcerting that her ex and current boyfriend were getting along so well. It made her wonder what they had been talking about that night on the porch.

Furthermore, since Buffy saw them both in the same room more often than not, she couldn't help but notice the similarities, as well as the differences. And even though she tried not to, she couldn't help but compare them either, something she felt extremely guilty about – especially considering how understanding they both were: it was clear it hadn't escaped their notice – and yet, they said nothing.

"Uhu...yes...no..." Angel said into the phone. "I don't know how much longer I'll be here, it depends... Well, it will have to wait until I get back... I realise that's what the powers want, but...no, _this has nothing to do with Buffy_!" Angel finally snapped at whoever was at the other end of the line. Buffy let an eyebrow rise, and Angel blanched when he finally noticed her. If he was capable of blushing, that's what he would have done, and Buffy's lips twitched slightly in amusement. "Speaking of...do you want to talk to her? Catch up? Okay, great." Angel handed her the phone, trying to look nonchalant in a bad attempt at covering up his embarrassment, causing Buffy to grin. "It's Cordelia."

Buffy put the phone against her ear while making a shooing motion in Angel's direction until he left the room. "Hello? Cordy?"

"Buffy!" Cordelia's chirpy voice said. "I was surprised to hear you were back!"

"I'm quite surprised to be back," Buffy said honestly, sitting down on the living room sofa.

Cordelia laughed. "So...another dimension, huh? I know all about those."

Buffy blinked. "You do?"

"Kind of. Just before Angel left to help fight Glory, I had a vision of this girl, Fred."

" – Vision?" Buffy interrupted.

"Oh, yeah, did no one tell you? I'm now a conduit for the Powers That Be. They send me visions of people in danger, and Angel heads off to save them. It's a thing."

"Wow," Buffy said, stunned.

"Wow, and OW," Cordelia said, laughing slightly. "They give me _excruciating_ headaches, but it's worth it, considering it allows us to help the helpless. Anyway, about that vision...all the stuff that's been going on here in LA while Angel's been away and the research I've been doing all points to one thing – Fred's in another world, and we'll have to go there to save her. I was talking to Angel about that, trying to convince him to return to LA sooner rather than later, but he's reluctant."

"Because of me," Buffy filled in for her.

"Yeah," Cordelia said kindly. "I'd say so."

"So...this other world," Buffy said slowly, wondering if Cordelia of all people might know how to open a portal back to the Wizarding World, "how are you going to get there?"

"By portal," Cordelia said. "There's this book – when you read from it, it opens a portal to that other dimension, which is called Pylea, by the way. Quite a few of them have been opened in various places in LA on dimensional hotspots - natural gateways between the worlds."

"You've done your research," Buffy was quite shocked by the maturity Cordelia seemed to possess.

"Yes, well, Angel's been gone for weeks and my acting career is in a stalemate, so it's not like I had anything else to do. And I've got an excellent source who is actually from that other dimension."

"And him being here when he belongs in Pylea...it doesn't upset the balance?" Buffy questioned, remembering what Dumbledore had said about the dimensional balance needing to be upheld.

"Not quite sure what you mean by that," Cordelia said honestly.

Buffy pursed her lips slightly. "And this book you mentioned...reading from it only opens a portal to Pylea, nowhere else?" Buffy asked next.

"No," Cordelia said. Both of them were silent for awhile. "You're not staying, are you?" Cordelia finally asked, and Buffy bit her lip, taken aback, not by Cordelia's bluntness, because she'd always had that, but of her perceptiveness. Just from a couple of minutes of conversation, Cordelia had figured out what the people supposed to know her best hadn't - what she herself had struggled to come to terms with.

"Honestly...if I'm given a choice...I don't think so," Buffy said, and as soon as she'd uttered it, she knew it to be true, and it felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Sunnydale wasn't her home anymore, and somehow, it was easy to admit that to Cordelia, perhaps because they had never been all that close. "You've changed."

Cordelia snorted. "Time does that to people," she said. "You've changed too, that much I can tell. I know we never really got along, but I'm glad I got to hear from you."

"Likewise."

"A piece of advice, Buffy," Cordelia said, "if time has taught me only one thing, it is that you should do what your heart tells you, and not what other people say. No matter what you choose, whether it's staying or going, follow your heart, okay?"

Buffy smiled at Cordelia's advice, which nearly mirrored what the spirit guide out in the desert had told her. She glanced at Angel who had just re-entered the room with Remus: Angel looked slightly exasperated over the fact that she hadn't hung up yet. "I will."

Buffy ended the phone-call and turned to the two men of her heart, an eyebrow raised. "Did you want something? Because if not, I'm just going to re-dial Cordelia – I'm honestly surprised at how great it was talking to her."

Angel shuddered, clearly imagining what Buffy and Cordelia in cahoots would be like to deal with. "Well...it's like this...I – no, we...uh..."

" - I was actually thinking that you and Angel should go out on a patrol together," Remus said, interrupting the vampire's ramble.

Buffy looked startled. "Okay..." she said slowly. She honestly hadn't expected that – while Angel and Remus were getting along fine, she didn't think that stretched over into one of them proposing that she spent time with the other alone. "Why?"

"We need to talk, Buffy," Angel spoke up, and Buffy sighed. She had been deliberately postponing it, instead choosing to spend time with Giles, Faith or her friends, in an attempt to recapture the easy comradeship of their high-school days, to no avail.

It was actually a lot simpler to connect with Anya and Tara, perhaps because she had no prior knowledge of them, and as such no expectations or a past to live up to. And Faith, while they had had a slightly rocky start, was great to spend time with now after they had cleared the air: she was someone who understood what it was like to be a Slayer, even if she embraced it in a way Buffy never had. And while they were opposites in many other things as well, it didn't seem to affect their growing comradeship negatively.

Truth be told, she was afraid that it would be just as awkward with Angel as it was to spend time with Willow and Xander - that he would be a stranger to her, like they truly were a world apart. And at the same time, she was afraid that it would be too easy – that it would be completely effortless to slip back into what they had had, because if it was...she had no idea what that would mean for her and Remus, soulmates or not.

"I know." She pursed her lips slightly. "You're right."

"No need to look so enthusiastic," Angel said, slightly teasing, and Buffy smiled weakly.

"Sorry, Angel, I just...sorry."

"It's alright. Anyway, it could be fun," Angel said, while Buffy grabbed a sword from the nearby weapon's chest. "Just like old times."

Buffy smiled slightly. "Well...maybe not quite like old times," she corrected, her mind flashing back to the heavy make-out sessions she and Angel had sometimes got up to during their patrols. '_No. Definitely not like old times,' _she thought, glancing back towards Remus' silhouette in the living room window as she exited the house.

* * *

_**Published:** 12/01 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- The Citroën Buffy asks about is Giles first car, introduced in Never Kill a Boy on the First date, and the crash Giles refers to happened in BTVS 4x12: A New Man, where it was presumably totalled. The red replacement car makes its first appearance in BTVS 5x2: Real Me, and according to Giles, he bought it because it was all red and sporty, seducing him, and because he was searching for a way to feel more "shallow" as suggested then by Buffy.  
- The clucking sound Giles makes is a sound Willow states he does when he is mad but too English to say anything, in BTVS 3x3: Faith, Hope and Trick.  
- The vision quest was based on the one Buffy does in BTVS 5x18: Intervention, with some changes. For example, the guide is not the canon mountain lion, but a coyote (a prairie wolf, to mirror Buffy's connection to Remus, a werewolf) instead, and the conversation between the First Slayer and Buffy is different, with Buffy having other problems to deal with and other lessons to learn, than in the series.  
- Giles mentioning Joyce resented him for Buffy's disappearance is based on what Joyce states in Anne, where she says she blames Giles.  
- Willow's problems with/later addiction to magic in season 6 is hinted at in her conversation with Remus, where she can't understand why a magical world isn't perfect.  
- 'The Chosen two' – Faith's name for her and Buffy in 3x14: Bad Girls. The full sentence goes: "We're Slayers, girlfriend. The Chosen Two," which is where I got Faith calling her 'girlfriend' from as well. Buffy's nickname, 'B,' was first uttered by Faith in BTVS 3x3: Faith, Hope and Trick, right after their first meeting outside of the Bronze. ("Thanks, B. Couldn't have done it without you.")  
- Spoilers for ATS s. 2 – with both Angel and Wesley in Sunnydale, clearly the AI gang can't go to Pylea until his return, so that entire arch has been postponed and delayed.  
- An example of the referred to 'heavy make-out sessions' between Buffy and Angel during patrol can be seen in BTVS 2x12: Bad Eggs.


	11. Home

DISCLAIMER_  
_This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

"So...when did you get back from...wherever it was you ended up?" Buffy and Angel had stopped in one of Sunnydale's larger cemeteries, Angel standing in front of the Slayer who was leaning against a large gravestone.

"Hell," Angel supplied. "And I'm not sure of the exact date, but between four or five months after I was sent there. I wasn't exactly the most lucid person when I came back. Time passed differently in Hell." Buffy bit her lip at the implications. A day in the Hell dimension she had briefly been in when she'd been living in LA as 'Anne' had been a lifetime in the real world, so what had it been like in Angel's Hell? "I'm not sure how long I spent there, but...years, probably. Centuries, most likely. It took me a long while before I managed to regain my sense of self, not to mention sanity."

Buffy's eyes filled with tears. "How did you get out?" she whispered.

Angel smiled humourlessly. "I have no idea, but I suppose the powers decided they weren't done with me yet."

"Well, I'm glad for that. Vampire."

"Yes, I know I am – " Angel began, looking confused.

Buffy rolled her eyes, raising her stake, and pushing Angel aside, and quickly engaged the vampire behind him in hand to hand. "Way to pay attention," she told him. "Aren't you supposed to have super-senses?"

A slight grin appeared at the corner of Angel's mouth. "What can I say? You're very distracting." Buffy flushed, and quickly brought the stake home, dusting the vampire, and spun back around to look at Angel, a slight frown on her face.

"Angel – " she began, but Angel placed his fingers against her lips, silencing her.

"I'm not going to apologise for feeling the way I do," he said quietly. "You have always completed me, Buffy. And I've loved you since I first saw you on the steps to Hemery High. You were the reason I started...well, _living_ again, after I was cursed with my soul." He lowered his hand. Buffy swallowed, tears appearing in her eyes, feeling extremely touched by Angel's confession. "I will always love you, Buffy, no matter what comes next," Angel continued. "You have my heart, even if it's not beating, and even if we will never be an 'us' again. That will never change."

"I'm sorry," Buffy whispered, wiping away her tears. And she was – she had made her choice: if she got the chance to return to the Wizarding World, she would take it. And it pained her, that once again, she would be forced to leave the memory of Angel behind when a large part of her would always love him.

"Why?" Angel asked, smiling. "Even if you don't return my feelings anymore, how could I be sorry when you're the one who keeps me going? The mere memory of you was what made me come back to my senses after my stint in Hell. As long as I know you're happy, I will be content. Lupin is a good guy."

"He is," Buffy agreed, smiling.

"I'm glad he's been there for you," Angel said honestly. "That you haven't been lonely, that he's been there to take care of you. With that being said, I still want you for myself. I'm selfish. Especially as he's been able to give you things I haven't – he has spent time with you under the sun. One of my biggest regret is that I couldn't give you that," Angel admitted.

"You know that never bothered me," Buffy said fiercely.

"Maybe not, but it mattered to me," Angel said. "Knowing that I could never give you a normal life – "

"Normal?" Buffy laughed incredulously. "My life hasn't been normal in a long time. And in any case, I didn't want what you call _normal_ – I wanted _you."_

"And what about now?" Angel asked quietly, and Buffy stared at him. "What do you want now?" What he really wanted to ask was _'who do you want, when faced with a final choice? Remus...or me?' _but he was fairly certain Buffy could sense his silent question even without saying it out loud. "What would you say if...if I _could _give you all that? The normal, full human experience?"

"Angel...please," Buffy sighed. She knew her heart, as split as it was, but she didn't want to say her decision out loud – that would make it so final and Angel was being so sweet - she didn't want to hurt him. And yet, she knew she would eventually have to. "This is getting us nowhere. Let's just change the sub – "

"Just listen please," Angel begged, almost desperately. "There's this prophecy – "

" – Of course there is," Buffy muttered under her breath, not at all happy with the turn their conversation had taken.

"It's called the Shanshu," Angel ploughed on, undeterred. "The translation is a little sketchy, but the main gist of it is that a vampire with a soul will play a major part in the Apocalypse and be turned human as a reward." Buffy gawked at him wordlessly. "I don't know when that Apocalypse will be, if it's even in your lifetime, but..." Angel let out a sigh, "keep it in mind, before you make any decisions about...anything." He smiled sadly. "I want you to be happy, Buffy."

'_Then why do you make things so hard?_' Buffy thought, her mind swirling.

* * *

**27 May, 1980**

"It's been four days," Lily bemoaned. "How much longer will they been gone?"

Lily, James, Peter and Sirius had gathered in Sirius' apartment to discuss Remus and Buffy's disappearance, which had them all worried.

"Your guess is as good as mine," James said. "They're in another dimension – who knows how long it will be before they can find a way back to this one."

"If they even want to," Peter said hesitantly. "If it's Buffy's home-dimension, what if she wants to stay?"

"I can't imagine either of them abandoning us on purpose. No – if they are given a chance, they will be back. Both of them," James spoke, trying to sound confident.

"I hope so," Lily sighed. "I want them here when the baby is born." She patted her stomach lightly. "Just a couple of more months now..."

"Surely they'll be back long before that!" James exclaimed, wide-eyed.

"I wouldn't bet on it, Prongs," Sirius said. "Dumbledore's been looking for a way to send Buffy back since her arrival, without success. Who's to say it's any easier from the other end?"

"So much can happen to them while they're gone," Lily muttered. "I'm worried."

"I'm sure they're just as concerned about us, Lils," James said, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"Let's talk about something else," Sirius said. "This isn't helping them any."

James nodded in agreement. "You're right." He turned to look at Peter. "Are you ever going to let us meet your reclusive girlfriend, Wormtail?"

Peter flushed, looking down, afraid that one of them would be able to sense his deceit: that 'Claire' was nothing more than a cover-story that allowed him to go to the Dark Lord's side without being suspected. "Claire is not reclusive. But like I've already told you, she's a muggle – "

" – And you haven't told her that you're a wizard," Sirius interrupted. "Yes, we know. But that doesn't have to stop us from meeting her. We can behave like non-magical folks for a couple of hours, no problem!"

Peter smiled weakly, while Lily snorted. James probably could – after all, he'd been in that situation before, during her sister's wedding. But Sirius, she was less sure about.

* * *

**28 May, 2001**

"Hey, Re," Buffy said, placing a kiss on his cheek as she entered the kitchen.

"Hi," Remus greeted her with a smile. "How was your patrol last night? I must have fallen asleep before you got back, because I didn't sense you returning to bed."

"It was...interesting," Buffy finally said, deciding not to mention that she hadn't gone to bed at all, but had stayed out until sunrise in an effort to clear her head. "How are you feeling? I know the full moon is tomorrow."

"I'm feeling surprisingly okay," Remus said. "I'm glad the full moon cycle is the same in this dimension – makes it easy to remember what day and time I will transform."

Buffy nodded. Something was teasing the very edges of her mind, like she had forgotten something... She shook her head, dismissing it as her imagination.

"Hey, B. Wolf-boy," Faith said, entering the kitchen, grabbing a bagel from the breadbasket and jumping up to sit on the kitchen worktop. "Do you have anywhere to lock yourself up tonight?" She asked, and Buffy froze as she suddenly remembered the very important difference between this dimension and Remus' world.

She swore, as Remus looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I completely forgot!" Buffy exclaimed, turning to Remus with a regretful expression on her face. "You're just used to transforming one day out of the month, but here..." she bit her lip. "Well, it's different here."

"Werewolves transform the night before the full moon, the night of the _actual_ full moon, and the night after," Faith explained.

Remus looked horrified as he understood he would have to go through the pain_ three_ times rather than just one. "It's not that bad," Buffy hurriedly said. "I mean you seem to feel a lot better than you usually do, so I guess being a werewolf in this dimension isn't as awful as you're used to. Oz never seemed to suffer from it as much as – Oz!" Buffy interrupted herself, and she practically threw herself towards the phone. "I completely forgot...Willow gave me his number..." She began to dial as she glanced at a bewildered looking Remus. "He's found a way to keep himself from transforming."

"How?" Remus breathed out, hope filling him.

"That's what I'm hoping he can tell me," Buffy said, listening to the dial tone on the other end, crossing her fingers for a positive response, even though she knew that whatever way Oz had found to control himself may not work in another dimension. But it was worth a try. "Come on, Oz...pick up..."

"Hey," Oz' voice said on the other end, and Buffy sagged in relief.

"Oz! It's Buffy!"

"...Huh," Oz finally said, eloquently as always.

Buffy chuckled. "You don't sound very surprised."

"I never sound surprised," Oz answered, and this time, Buffy laughed.

"True enough. Anyway, as I'm sure you can guess, I'm back in Sunnydale after spending a long time in another dimension."

"Uhu."

"This is what I like about you, Oz," Buffy teased, "you're so undemanding. I was hoping you could help me with something."

"Anything," Oz said.

"I know this guy...he's wonderful, and he's kind of my boyfriend."

"Not Angel, I'm guessing."

"No. He's actually a werewolf, like you, and Willow mentioned you had found a way to stop transforming, and I was hoping...well..."

"Ah," Oz said, understanding. "Yeah, no problem. It took me a long time though – it's not something you learn overnight. There's some herbs and stuff that I take...some chanting...a couple of charms – "

" – Charms? Like magic?"

"Well, I guess the chanting is magic, kind of, but with charms, I meant beads."

"Oh." Buffy nodded thoughtfully. "Accessories. Always nice."

"There's also a lot of meditation involved – intense stuff. It's all about keeping your inner cool."

Buffy, who had been writing down what Oz was saying, tensed. "Meaning?"

"It's really all about acceptance," Oz said. "Before you can gain control, you have to let go of some. The werewolf – you can't see it is a separate entity. It's a part of you that you have to let in before you can be in command of it. "

"Well, that's the crux of the matter, isn't it?" Buffy muttered.

"Your guy – not that big on accepting what he is, I take it?" Oz questioned.

Buffy glanced at Remus. "Not really, no. Anyways, thanks a lot for your help, Oz. Could you mail the stuff you mentioned: the herbs, charms and stuff, and a note about the chants you're using?"

"Sure, no prob. You're at Revello Drive?"

"Yeah. It was great to hear from you, Oz."

"You too."

Buffy hung up. "Well?" Remus gave her a hopeful look and Buffy grimaced.

"The gist of it is that controlling your transformations is not going to happen overnight. Oz is going to send some stuff over...other than that, you're supposed to meditate."

"Meditate?" Remus looked slightly sceptical.

"Yeah, to find your inner calm. And you need to accept your wolf as part of you," Buffy winced, knowing very well how Remus felt about his lycanthropy.

Remus' eyes flashed. "Well, that's easier said than done. The wolf...he's a monster, Buffy!"

Buffy let an eyebrow rise. "Hardly. He's not very monstrous to James, or Sirius, or Peter – "

" – When they're animals. It's different – "

" – Fine, with me then. I'm not an animagus and he's completely calm in my presence – "

" – That's because I love you and you're my soulmate – "

" – Exactly! Clearly, some part of Moony knows that, even when 'your mind' isn't in control, which means that at least a part of you is there even after you've transformed." Buffy looked frustrated. "If there's even the slightest chance – "

" – I've grown up despising the wolf, I can't just turn that off on command – "

" – I'm not asking you to! All I want is for you to try Oz' suggestion. Meditate!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Good!"

"Peachy!"

Both of them glared at each other, arms crossed, as they huffed.

"Wow," Faith deadpanned and both Remus and Buffy jumped, having completely forgotten her presence. Remus reddened and Buffy looked down at her feet. "I'm guessing 'issues.' I appreciate the need to vent, but in my experience, sex solves pretty much every argument. So feel free to kiss and make up any time. Preferably not in front of me. Unless you're into that kind of thing," she added after a short pause, watching in delight as Remus' blush deepened even further, and Buffy looked like she either wanted to kill Faith, or disappear.

"Sorry," Remus muttered to Buffy, shoulders slumping.

"I'm sorry too," Buffy mumbled, walking forward and wrapping her arms around his neck, tip-toeing to give him a kiss.

"And I'm outta here," Faith interrupted, jumping down from the worktop and exiting the kitchen. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do! That probably leaves you free to do anything you want!"

Remus and Buffy exchanged rueful looks. "Faith is certainly something," Buffy muttered.

"She kind of reminds me a little of a female version of Sirius," Remus concluded and Buffy snorted.

"Yeah, you're right. Anyway...I know I shouldn't push you about the whole werewolf thing, I just – "

"Actually, you probably should," Remus said ruefully. "You have a point...several points, and I'm holding myself back from trying out of fear."

"Fear of what?" Buffy asked, glad he was opening himself up to her. This was one of the things she liked most about Remus – they could both lean upon each other when they needed it; they understood when it was time to let the other unwind or talk about something. This was one of those times.

For the first time since arriving in Sunnydale, she removed the rather meagre shield she had managed to raise in her mind, to keep Remus from sensing her feelings – feelings she wanted to keep to herself until she knew what to do, about Angel, about everything. Unfortunately, the shield had kept Remus' emotions hidden from her as well, unless he purposefully sent them to her, but now they all came flooding back: frustration, regret, fear, love...relief.

From Remus expression, Buffy could tell that the block had hurt him, emotionally, and suddenly, she felt guilty. They were a couple – they weren't supposed to hide from each other. They were supposed to share their problems. "I'm sorry for blocking you," Buffy whispered.

"It's okay," Remus said, his voice rather shaky as he began to sort through the things he could sense coming from Buffy: sadness and regret, love, uncertainty and confusion... "Thanks for opening up again. It's been a bit lonely, without your presence in the back of my mind."

"I feel the same way," Buffy admitted. "I was stupid. I was afraid that you'd sense – "

" – That you still love Angel," Remus smiled humourlessly as another emotion got added: guilt. "It's alright, Buffy. He's...well, he's Angel."

"And you're _you,"_ Buffy said fiercely. "I love you too, never doubt that. I just...seeing him again...it brought everything back to the surface, and it's hard. He...dropped this _bomb_ on me when we were patrolling, and suddenly, everything became even more difficult than it already is."

"What kind of bomb?" Remus asked.

"He...he told me there's a chance that...that he'll become human in the future. And...it was so shocking, Re. So unexpected. How was I supposed to react? A future with Angel...for a long while, it was all I ever dreamed of, and when he told me that, I couldn't help but start imagining it again. Just for a moment." She looked up into Remus' eyes. "But it didn't change anything. I admit that I entertained the..._notion_ of a future with Angel for a minute or two, and a part of me will always love Angel... But I want my life to be with you. And when I think about my future..._really _think about it...I always see us. Together."

"Buffy..." Remus breathed out. "Are you sure? I mean...I don't know if I can ever accept myself the way you want me to. And I'm overprotective, I blame myself for practically everything, and I'm terrified of even thinking about children – what if I pass on my curse to them? And I don't really have anything to offer you – "

" – If we get back to our dimension, there's a job at a certain library waiting," Buffy interrupted with a slight grin.

Remus stared. "If we – you mean – "

"Like I told you, I want you in my life," Buffy said firmly. "That, I'm sure of. I love you, and I want my life to be with you. It doesn't matter if that is here or in the Wizarding World. As for children...let's cross that bridge when – if – we get to it, 'kay?"

"Okay," Remus muttered, smiling as well.

"And don't even start with the overprotective thing," Buffy continued. "I'm just as protective of you. And compared to Angel, you're like super-tolerant. You don't treat me like something fragile - you let me try my own way. You challenge me, Re, in a way that no one else has, ever. And you understand me, you support me in all the things that matter, and you love me. Me, Buffy, Slayer, Witch, all of me. You're what I need. You're what I want."

"And you're all I want too," Remus whispered.

* * *

Remus slowly entered the cage in the crypt Willow had shown him: it was the same place Oz had locked himself up in during full moons after graduating High School. Buffy stepped in after him. "Nervous?" She asked.

"Of course I am," Remus answered as he began to get undressed. "It's my first transformation in this dimension. I have no idea what to expect. Speaking of, you should step outside and lock the door."

Buffy let an eyebrow rise. "You won't hurt me."

Remus threw her a frustrated look. "That was in the Wizarding World, Buffy. Things may work differently here. We already know the full moon affects werewolves differently from what I'm used to – three nights of transformation, not one. Just because I've been calm in your presence there, doesn't mean it's the same here."

"It doesn't mean it isn't, either," Buffy countered. "Look – I can still feel you in the back of my head, and you can still feel me. Which means our connection hasn't faded – we're still soulmates, which is what keeps you from attacking me when you're transformed. And since that's still intact, you won't attack me here either."

"Yes, well, I'd rather not take any chances," Remus said firmly. "Look, how about a compromise? Wait outside until I've transformed, and if I'm calm, you can come in."

Buffy pursed her lips. "Fine. Do you think the meditation worked?"

Remus shook his head. "Doubtful. I've never tried it before, and I don't think I managed to relax at all. Hopefully, Oz will send some tips along with the other stuff." He suddenly tensed up. "It's starting."

Buff nodded, and quickly stepped out, locking the cage door behind her. She grabbed the bars of the door, watching worriedly as Remus let out a groan of pain. It only took her a moment to realise the transformation was different: the process from man to werewolf was a lot quicker than she was used to seeing, and Remus wasn't screaming in pain.

It only took a few seconds before Moony stood were Remus had kneeled a moment earlier. The werewolf sniffed the air and paced the new surroundings in curiosity. It didn't take long for Moony to notice Buffy, and his tufted tail began to wag, and he let out a happy bark.

Buffy smiled as she unlocked the door and stepped inside to join him. She had been right after all. "Hello, Moony," she said as the lycan trotted up to her, tongue lolling out. She reached out a hand and began to scratch him behind his ear. After a few minutes, the werewolf pulled away, seemingly bored. He stepped up to the closed door and whined. "Sorry, love. We can't go outside, I'm afraid. You'll have to do with me."

Moony seemed to stare at her reproachfully. "I know it's unfair. Sorry. At least Remus will be happy the transformation was less painful. It should make the moon tomorrow and the night after a lot less difficult for him." The lycan let out a low, angry growl, and Buffy rolled her eyes. "Why can't you just accept each other? You're one and the same, really, so it would make things a lot easier on you both." Moony snarled unhappily. "Suit yourself. Hopefully, the stuff Oz sends will help. Both you and your human half is being ridiculous."

The puff of breath that almost sounded a bit like a derisive snort showed Buffy exactly how Moony felt about that.

* * *

**8 June, 1980**

"You have found a pensieve for me Lucius?"

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius Malfoy bowed in front of Voldemort, handing it to him.

"I am less than pleased that it took so long."

Lucius swallowed. "It is a very rare artifact, my Lord. I – "

" – I am not interested in your excuses," Voldemort interrupted. "I am aware it is difficult to find a working pensieve, you don't have to tell me that. However, I also know that there is nothing you can't get your hands on with money and effort. You have the money. But it has been made clear the effort you've put in to this mission has not been up to your usual standards, or I would have had this pensieve in my hand long ago, I'm sure. Tell me, why is that? Is your enthusiasm for our cause waning, Lucius?"

"No, my Lord! Not at all!" Lucius hurriedly said. "It is as strong as it always has been. But…Narcissa…she has been expecting our child – "

" – Yes…she gave birth three days ago, did she not?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"And what have you named him?"

"Draco, my Lord."

"A fine, strong name," the Dark Lord nodded in approval. "I congratulate you on his birth."

"Thank you, my Lord." Lucius swallowed.

"I can respect your familial obligations Lucius," Voldemort continued after a short pause, and Lucius noticeably relaxed. "However, in the future, make sure it does not surpass your obligations to me. _CRUCIO!" _Lucius screamed, as Voldemort kept him under the curse for several seconds, before breaking it. "You are dismissed," the Dark Lord said coolly and Lucius stood up on shaky legs. "Make sure no one disturbs me for the next few hours."

Voldemort watched dispassionately as the pure-blood left his throne-room. When he was gone, he put his want to his temple and pulled out several strands of memory about the book, dumping them into the pensieve. It was time to go back to work.

* * *

**22 June, 2001**

_Buffy stood in a misty landscape, staring at the eight ethereal shapes surrounding her. "This is different," she stated warily. One of the otherworldly beings, slightly smaller and less intimidating than the other seven, stepped forward, its form glowing._

"_Buffy Summers. Welcome," he – or she – or it, said. It was impossible for Buffy to discern what gender the figure had, if it had one at all. Its voice was light and melodic, and yet eerie. "It is an honour to be in your presence."_

"_Yeah, I'd say likewise, except I'm not sure who you are," Buffy answered. "You're clearly not human...kind of radiant, actually...so I'm guessing you're the Powers That Be?"_

"A_ power," the being corrected gently. "You are surrounded by Fate, Buffy."_

"_No shit?" Buffy asked, her eyes widening. "Like...literally?"_

"_Yes," the being – the Fate – stated, its echoing voice sounding strangely amused. "I am sure you have questions. Tonight, we will give you some answers."_

_Buffy nodded. "Cool, I guess." She glanced at the other Fates, all of them still and silent, standing around them. "So, are you like their spoke's person?"_

"_Far from it. In terms of power and influence compared to the seven ancients, I am no one," the Fate spoke. "But I was given the right to speak to you on this night because it was I who inadvertently set your current destiny on its course."_

"_My current destiny?" Buffy asked, confused, and the Fate seemed to nod._

"_Yes. Your life took a new, and in many ways, more difficult, direction, in Los Angeles. You were bleeding, dying. I was watching, and through an impulsive decision, I chose to try and save your life by interfering. It was my actions that caused the portal to appear, which changed your fate."_

"_You're the reason I ended up in the Wizarding World," Buffy said, realization dawning on her._

"_Yes. I know now I should not have meddled, and I learned later that you would have survived your wound even without my interference, but at the time, I could only see one way." The Fate sounded slightly rueful. "I was being reckless and I didn't fully understand the consequences of my actions. But I have learned since then."_

"_What would have happened if you hadn't acted?" Buffy asked. "Would I have returned to Sunnydale? Would...would Angel and I have had a future?"_

"_What could have been does not matter," the Fate said firmly. "All that matters is where you decide to go from here."_

"_Wait...where_ I_ decide - ?" Buffy felt confused. "You're letting _me_ decide? I thought you destiny-types were all about sacred duty and no free choices. When you said you were the Fates, I figured you'd come here to order me what to do through yet another sucky prophecy or something. Isn't that what you do?"_

_The Fate seemed to chuckle. "Duty and prophecy is only a part of it. In many ways, destiny is all about choice, even if the people involved don't always realise it. And your destiny, Buffy, is a lot more flexible than most people's." _

"_Well...thanks, then, I guess," Buffy muttered. "So, hit me. What am I supposed to decide?"_

"_Where you belong," the Fate stated, causing Buffy's eyes to widen. "You have gotten the chance to experience two different worlds, and two different kinds of people, each with their own positive sides and negative sides. It is up to you, Buffy Summers, to decide in which world you should live out your life. Each choice presents its own set of difficulties and challenges, and will set you on the way towards a specific destiny for that world."_

"_And you can't tell me what those two destinies are beforehand? Or what will happen in the world I don't choose?" Buffy asked, and the Fate only smiled mysteriously. "Figures," Buffy muttered. "So you're essentially letting me choose where to live?"_

"_And _who_ to live _with,"_ the Fate added. "Know this, Buffy Summers – the choice you make here is final: when you have made your choice, you will forever belong in that dimension. Once you decide, you can never go back. When you wake, you will have three hours to make your decision. At that point, a portal will open up in the living room of Revello Drive. That is when your final choice must be made. If you go through the portal alongside Remus Lupin, you will have chosen the Wizarding World. If you don't, and he goes through alone, you will have chosen your world of origin. Once the portal closes, so does your window of opportunity."_

_Buffy grew cold. "It sounds like Remus is going back no matter what. Why can't he stay in Sunnydale with me, if that's what I choose?"_

"_Remus Lupin's destiny does not lie in Sunnydale, and it never will. His fate is tied up with the Wizarding World. But what turn that fate will take depends entirely upon you. In many ways, Albus Dumbledore was correct when he spoke to you about the Butterfly effect – you are indeed a butterfly, with the ability to affect and change the tide of the people around you with your mere presence."_

"_No pressure," Buffy muttered. "What about the dimensional balance? If I decide to go back to the Wizarding World, won't the universe implode because it's not where I'm originally from?"_

"_The universe will adjust," the Fate spoke, its voice rather dry. "It has withstood a lot in its time, and it will withstand a lot more. Your presence in either dimension will cause no imbalance: in that, Albus Dumbledore was wrong."_

"_Well, that's a relief," Buffy muttered._

_The Fate smiled. "Choose wisely, Buffy Summers. And live well."_

Buffy woke up with a gasp.

"Buffy?" Remus asked groggily. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, you know, having a conversation with Fate, that sort of thing. No biggie."

Remus sat up, staring at her. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Buffy sat up and fiddled slightly with the sheets, not looking at Remus. "You're going back to the Wizarding World today," she said.

"Oh," Remus said dumbly, his heart sinking.

"Yeah," Buffy said, and then let her eyes rise to meet his. "And if you think I'm going to let you leave without me, you're deluding yourself."

Remus' eyes widened. "Buffy...are you sure?"

"I told you once before, weeks ago, and I'm telling you again: _I want my life to be with you. _That hasn't changed. It will _never_ change," Buffy said fiercely. "The Wizarding World is my home now. _You_ are my home now."

Remus took her face between his hands, and he smiled, capturing her lips between his. No words needed to be said.

* * *

Almost three hours later, Buffy and Remus stood in the living room of Revello Drive, hands clasped as they stared at Faith, Giles, Wesley, Willow, Xander, Spike, Anya, Tara and Angel, waiting for their reaction to what the Fates had said, and the announcement that they were leaving.

"Well...good riddance," Spike muttered with a huff, not meeting Buffy's eyes. Faith elbowed him sharply. "Ow."

"For what it's worth, B, I'm going to miss you," the brunette Slayer said with a grin.

"Likewise, _F," _Buffy said with a grin. "Take care of the Hellmouth for me."

"You bet. It was never big or bad enough to need two Slayers anyway. At least not two awesome Slayers like you and me," Faith quipped, and Buffy laughed.

"I am honoured to have met you," Wesley said solemnly, shaking Buffy's hand. "Though I believe Faith is quite right in both of you being too much for one Hellmouth to handle."

Buffy grinned. "Look after Faith."

"I will."

"It was very nice to meet you, Buffy," Tara said, smiling softly.

"Yeah!" Anya agreed. "Thanks for not slaying me."

Buffy laughed again. "You're welcome."

"Buffy...a-are you sure? I mean...you haven't been back all that long...and I haven't spent as much time with you as I would have liked..." Willow wringed her hands.

"I've been here a month, Will," Buffy smiled sadly. It hadn't really crossed her mind how things would have changed in her old world, not until now, when she could truly see how different things were; how different her friends were. She had missed so much...and yet, she had gained so much in return. Returning to Sunnydale had been good for her, allowing her to move on, for real. Buffy felt relived, glad she'd been given this opportunity to see them all again, giving her the chance to say goodbye: she could truly put the Sunnydale chapter of her life behind her now. "But we just don't click the way we used to. No time in the world will change that."

Willow nodded, defeated. "I guess you're right."

"But you'll always be one of my best friends, and I'll always miss you," Buffy continued, before turning to Xander. "Xan..."

"I'm not going to beg you to stay," Xander said, smiling weakly. "I can see you've made up your mind, and I respect that. Just...don't forget old Xan-man, okay?"

Buffy chuckled. "Like I could."

Buffy stepped towards, letting go of Remus' hand in order to fall into the embrace of both Willow and Xander, tears streaming uninterrupted from her eyes. "God, I'll miss you," Xander muttered. "I guess this is the end of the Scoobies, huh?"

Buffy shook her head as the three best friends slowly let go of each other. "We'll always be the Scoobies, Xander," she said, tears blurring her sight. "No matter where we are or what we're doing." She wiped her eyes.

"As always, Lady of Buffdom, Duchess of Buffonia, I bow to your wisdom," Xander said, smiling. "You'll always be my superhero."

Buffy laughed, smiling gratefully at Willow and Xander for trying to put on brave faces for her. They had all changed so much - she had changed too much for their friendship to ever be the same again - the world had changed, dropped her in another dimension, and it had given her new friends, new priorities...a new life. But that didn't mean that Willow and Xander meant any less to her. They had been her first true friends, and she would always remember them, even as she lived out her life in the Wizarding World. Buffy looked to Angel, and he sighed, smiling sadly.

"This is it, then. You choose him."

"Angel..." Buffy breathed out. "I did what you said, and I thought about it – the Shinshoe – "

" – Shanshu," Angel corrected, a slight grin breaking out on his face, despite himself, at Buffy's horrible habit of butchering words.

" – Yeah, that one. It didn't change anything for me, Angel, other than that I'm really happy for you, and I hope it happens." Angel didn't answer, knowing that there was no way he could tell her that the only reason he'd cared about the Shanshu in the first place was because of her. Instead, he tried to smile again, the attempt ending up more like a grimace. "But choosing Remus...it wasn't really a choice at all. I love him. And I love you too, but what we had...it's in the past."

"And he's your future," Angel stated, and Buffy nodded, tears appearing in her eyes.

"I never meant to hurt you – "

"It's okay Buffy. I told you – as long as you're happy, I'm happy to."

"Really?" Buffy asked doubtfully and Angel chuckled humourlessly.

"No, not right now," he said honestly. "Right now, I'm jealous like Hell. But I will be, Buffy. It's just going to take some time."

Buffy hugged him, then, tightly, her tears making his shirt wet. "Whoever you end up with, Angel, is going to be one lucky girl, whether you're vampire or human when it happens," she told him.

Angel was about to place a kiss on the top of her head, but Buffy leaned her head upwards, standing on her tiptoes so it landed on her lips instead. "Goodbye," she whispered, stepping back to stand beside Remus, who put one of his arms around her as she cried into his chest. In his other hand, he clutched a bag of things and instructions Oz had sent: it had arrived a couple of weeks ago. He nodded at Angel, understanding that the kiss had been nothing more than comfort, nothing more than a final farewell.

"Take care of her," Angel told him.

Remus smiled at him. "I will. It was...surprisingly nice to meet you, Angel."

Angel only nodded, not quite noble enough to be able to say the same, at least not right now. Perhaps when the wound of losing Buffy forever wasn't so new...but not now.

Giles glanced at his watch. "It's time," he said, and just as he uttered the words, a bright, shining portal appeared in front of them, just like the Fates had promised.

Buffy straightened up, wiping her eyes, before she ran forward and wrapped Giles in another hug. "I'm going to miss you."

"And I you," Giles said, smiling at her. "Have a _wonderful_ life, Buffy."

Buffy only nodded, taking one long last look at her old and new friends: Giles, Willow, Xander, Anya, Tara, Wesley, Spike...well, maybe not Spike. But Faith, for sure.

"Never stop kicking ass, B," Faith said, grinning, and Buffy laughed.

"I won't if you don't either," she said.

She glanced at Remus, who glanced back with a raised eyebrow and she smiled, taking his hand as they stared into the portal. She could see the inside of their cottage now...wow, the portal really had wrecked it – they would have a lot of cleaning to do when they got back...home. A flash of light, and they were back.

"Home sweet home," Remus muttered and Buffy grinned.

"Yeah."

* * *

_**Published:** 02/02 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Hemery High is the High School Buffy went to in Los Angeles before moving to Sunnydale with her mother. Angel's first glimpse of Buffy at the school in question can be viewed in BTVS 2x21: Becoming – Part One.  
- Lady of Buffdom, Duchess of Buffonia – Xander's nickname for Buffy in BTVS s. 2: Halloween. Xander also calls Buffy a superhero in BTVS s. 1: The Harvest.  
- Two of Angel's arguments for breaking up with Buffy in BTVS 3x20: The Prom, was that he couldn't give her a normal life, or take her into the light, which is why I decided to air those concerns in their conversation.  
- The Shanshu Prophecy is first mentioned in ATS 1x21: Blind Date and is more fully revealed in the following episode, 1x22: To Shanshu in L.A. Subsequently, fulfilling the prophecy becomes Angel's main goal and motivation in his quest for redemption.  
- 'Shinshoe' - Shanshu – from the BTVS series, we all know of Buffy's way with words. She mangles them. So how could I not have her mangle this one too, for old time's sake?


	12. Return

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**22 June, 1980**

"Hello? Is anyone home?"

At the sound of voices, Lily and James stuck their heads out of their bedroom and notably lit up when they caught sight of Remus and Buffy. "Hey, you're back! Finally! We were becoming worried you'd decide to stay in Buffy's dimension," Lily said.

Buffy blinked. "How did you know that's where we were?"

James shrugged. "We didn't. Not really, but Dumbledore guessed. By the way, your cottage looks like a wreck, Moony."

Remus grimaced. "Yes, a consequence from a portal opening up there, I suppose. Buffy and I have a lot of cleaning to do."

"Fun," James stated sarcastically. "Anyway, let me floo Peter and Sirius and then you can tell us all about what happened."

"You might as well floo Dumbledore too," Buffy said. "He'll probably want to know." And, she thought, she wanted to tell him in person that she was staying in the Wizarding World – for good – and that there was no danger in her presence upsetting the dimensional balance.

"Will do," James said. "By the way, it's great to have you back – life has been so boring in your absence." He led the way to the living room to floo, while the others sat down.

"So no attacks while we were gone?" Remus wondered and Lily shook her head.

"Strangely enough, no. There have been a few issues in the Ministry due to Imperiused personnel, though. All staff is being put under regular check-ups. Bagnold is holding up surprisingly well under the pressure – Dumbledore is quite impressed.

Buffy groaned. "How about we just drop all talk about war and politics - there are much more important stuff to talk about!"

"Like?" Lily questioned.

"Like you, of course!" Buffy exclaimed with a laugh. "You're looking really great. Pregnancy agrees with you."

Lily beamed, always happy to talk about her growing baby. "Thanks! Harry is becoming really big!"

"You and James have already decided on a name?" Remus questioned.

Lily grinned impishly. "Well..._I _decided. James agreed."

Buffy and Remus laughed as James joined them on the sofa, wrapping a protective arm around his wife. Less than five minutes later, Peter, Sirius and the Headmaster flooed in.

"I am glad to see you are well," Dumbledore said. "Do you mind telling us what happened?"

"Not much to tell," Buffy shrugged. "An Apocalyptic incident in my dimension of origin caused a dimensional rift to open, ironically enough in our cottage. The portal dragged us in, we spent a month in my world reminiscing and catching up with my old friends, and then the Fates got involved and sent us back."

James, Lily, Sirius, Peter and the usually unflappable Headmaster blinked. "The Fates?" Sirius echoed dumbly.

"Yep," Buffy said, popping her 'p.' "They came to me in a dream and everything. Perk of being a Slayer – mystical visions and meetings galore. Essentially, they let me choose what world to live in. And they assured me it would not cause any imbalance," she added when she saw Dumbledore's thoughtful frown.

Lily leaned forward eagerly. "So what are the Fates like? What do they look like? Do they have a gender? How many are they? What kind of power do they have? What – "

" – Woah, slow down, Lils," Buffy grinned, amused at Lily's thirst for knowledge. "I'm not even sure I could answer most of your questions. But the Fate I spoke to was surprisingly kind, actually, a nice change from the usual conduits from the Powers That Be I've had to deal with in the past. There were eight Fates there – seven of them were called the ancients, I think, and were pretty much only standing around looking intimidating. The eighth is the one I spoke to. They looked pretty genderless to me and their voices were kind of creepy yet sort of harmonious."

"What did they look like?" Dumbledore asked, equally fascinated.

"They glowed," Buffy stated. "A lot. And they looked sort of wispy, like they were made up of mist. But the power and strength in them..." Buffy shuddered. "It put all my senses on edge. I have no doubt they could have destroyed me without even trying."

"Did they tell you how you came to end up in our world at all?" Sirius asked.

"Yes. It was actually the Fate's fault. It seemed the Fate I spoke to wasn't content with how things were playing out, and decided to meddle. I got the feeling he was quite embarrassed about it. I know it sounds weird," she added when she saw the looks she got, "but he sounded kind of young, and compared to the other seven there, he wasn't brimming with as much power."

"How remarkable," Dumbledore muttered. "You are lucky, Buffy, to get to experience such a meeting. I can't imagine it's something many people get the chance to."

Buffy shrugged, not quite as impressed. "To me, it was just another day in the weird life of Buffy Anne Summers."

* * *

**30 June**

"I got a letter from my sister," Lily sounded slightly awed as she held up the envelope for James to see.

"Well, that's good, isn't it? Maybe she's ready to bury the hatchet." Lily smiled and looked hopeful as she opened the letter, but it didn't take long for her expression to fall. "What is it?" James asked.

"Well...she's not ready to mend any bridges," Lily sighed. "It's a letter of gloating superiority." She held up a picture of a fat baby. "Behold little Dudley, born a week ago."

Her husband gawked. "No offense, but that is the ugliest baby I've ever seen." Despite herself, Lily's lips twitched. "What did Petunia write?" James asked.

"Well, Tuney is pointing out she's got a real, _normal _family of her own now. She doesn't need me." Her shoulders slumped. "She didn't even let me know she was expecting."

"Have you told her that you are?" James countered.

"Well, no, but I've been trying to give her space," Lily admitted. "And I didn't want it to seem like I was holding my perfect little life over her head, which is how she doubtlessly would have seen it."

"And now she beat you to it," James sighed. "I'm sorry. I know the tension between you hurts you, but I don't think you should respond to this letter."

"What?" Lily exclaimed. "Why not? Even if the letter wasn't very nice, at least she took the first step."

"But only so she could gloat," James pointed out. "I have no doubt she's hoping this letter will cause you to contact her in return, only so she can hurt you again, in some twisted little game of revenge for something that was never your fault. Like she pointed out, Petunia has a family of her own now. And so do we." James placed a hand on Lily's protruding belly. "Maybe it's time to start focusing on our happiness, and not your sister's. She clearly doesn't want to be helped and her only aim seems to be to make you as bitter as she is."

Lily sighed. "Perhaps you are right."

* * *

**1 July **

"Madame Maxine," Eliza greeted her old Headmistress with a smile.

"Eliza, ma chère," Madame Maxine said, placing one of her large hands on Eliza's shoulders. "I was pleasantly surprised to get your letter."

"I am glad you agreed to meet with me," Eliza smiled as they took their places by the table of the Parisian café they had agreed upon as a meeting place. After her term as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor had ended, Dumbledore had asked her to return to France on a long-term mission. The Order needed someone to keep an eye on movements abroad, such as Death Eater activity and potential allies: because of the curse on the Defence position, he had been unwilling to hire her for another year.

While Eliza hadn't been all that enthusiastic about the thought of returning to the country she had left, she understood that, for several reasons, she was Dumbledore's only viable option: her French origins made her perfect for the assignment. And she was looking forward to reconnecting with her friends, Julie in particular. She was, however, dreading the thought of potentially running into her father.

"'Ow could I say no?" Olympe said. "'Ow 'ave you been, Eliza?"

"I have been well, Madame," Eliza answered with a smile. "Moving to England was the best move I could have made."

"And yet, here you are," Madame Maxine commented. "What brings you back to our country?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to move back here to reach out for French support in the war," Eliza answered. "And with my term as a professor at Hogwarts over, I find myself in need of a job."

"I see," Madame Maxine said, while sipping at her glass of water. "Well, I would 'ave been more than 'appy to offer employ you, but I am afraid dat all staff positions at Beauxbatons are filled at the moment."

"That's alright," Eliza said with a slight smile. "I knew the possibility of that was more than likely. However, I was hoping you might be able to point me in the direction of other positions here in France. As the Beauxbaton Headmistress, I know you are very well connected – any recommendations you could give me would be more than welcome."

Madame Maxine frowned slightly in thought. "Well…dere is one thing… A dear friend of mine, Apolline Delacour, is in need of a governess to her three year old daughter. Fleur's parents are very busy people – they work a lot and travel often. I must warn you, 'owever," Madame Maxine cautioned when she saw Eliza's eyes light up with interest. "While Fleur can be sweet and is highly intelligent for her age, the girl is part veela, and she is snobbish and spoiled with quite a temper – all her previous tutors 'ave left after only a few weeks of employment."

Eliza stirred her tea slowly, a slight frown on her face. "She is probably lonely," she said quietly. She could recognize herself in Fleur, just from the short description Madame Maxine had just made: parents who were too busy to spend time with their child, who spoiled her with all the material things a girl could possibly wish for...but it couldn't make up for the lack of affection.

The Headmistress nodded. "And it will only get worse when the poor girl 'its puberty in ten years or so." As if knowing what Eliza was thinking, she smiled. "She could use someone level-'eaded she can turn to at that time. And I 'ave no doubt you could be that person, Eliza. Do you want me to arrange a meeting with the Delacours for you? They live in Marseille."

It took less than a split-second for Eliza to decide, her heart already filled with compassion for the young Fleur Delacour. "Yes."

* * *

**2 July**

"Eliza! Mon dieu, when did you get back from England?" Audrey exclaimed, both in delight and surprise when she opened her door and found her former classmate and friend standing on the doorsteps.

"Just a few days ago," Eliza said, embracing her friend tightly. "It is good to see you."

"Likewise." Audrey's eyes twinkled with joy. "Well, I'd say England has agreed with you," she continued after looking her friend up and down. "You look amazing!"

"Merci," Eliza blushed lightly. "How have you been, Audrey? What are you doing now?" The two young women sat down on the stairs, basking in the warm light streaming down at them from the midday sun.

"Too be honest, I've mostly been enjoying the freedom no more school has brought me!"

Eliza chuckled. "That sounds like you."

"It does, doesn't it?" Audrey grinned widely. "I've experienced a lot, though – I've been globe-trotting, and I've seen so many new amazing places, Eliza, you have no idea!"

"But none of your travels brought you to England for a visit?" Eliza asked with a slight laugh, her question half-joking, but a slight frown appeared on Audrey's face.

"I wanted to visit Britain, I really did," Audrey admitted. "But with the war going on over there, I didn't think it was such a good idea. I'm not as brave as you."

Eliza's eyes widened. "Brave? Me?"

Audrey nodded. "Moving to a war-stricken country immediately after graduating school, without the approval of your father - and I know he disowned you for it – is something I would never have dared to even consider."

Eliza's expression darkened slightly. "You've heard about that, huh?"

Audrey laughed lightly. "Ma chère, I think the entire French pureblood society has heard of it, and then some. Your father is a very important political figure. Anyway, enough talk about him," the strawberry-blonde quickly added, seeing Eliza's face twist into a grimace. "I want to know about _you_ – why are you back in France? I thought your move to Britain was permanent?"

Eliza hesitated. It was one thing to tell Madame Maxine, a good friend and ally of Dumbledore's the truth, but to tell Audrey...as much as she loved and trusted her friend, she was still a civilian. And a chatterbox, to boot. "I can't tell you that."

Audrey let an eyebrow rise. "War stuff, huh? Alright – Je peux respecter ça. How long are you staying?"

"For the foreseeable future, actually," Eliza revealed.

"Vraiment?" Audrey squealed. "That is great! We'll be able to spend so much time together! It will be just like old times: you, me and Julie, traipsing around, making a mess of things...and having a blast!"

"What about Sophie?" Eliza asked, laughing. "Is she not included in your plans?"

Audrey's expression faltered. "Ahh...Sophie..." She winced. "Sophie is complicated."

"Complicated?" Eliza questioned, worried now, even though her and Sophie had not parted on the best of terms. Had something happened to her? Somewhat guiltily, Eliza admitted to herself she should have tried to stay in touch with her best friends – moving to another country was no excuse. "How?"

"Well...I think you'd be better of talking to her about it," Audrey hedged. "Or Julie, really – she's been more affected than I have. Have you been to see her yet?"

Eliza shook her head. "Non. I am planning to. But don't try to change the subject! If something has happened to Sophie, I want to know."

"Nothing has happened to Sophie...Sophie herself happened."

"I'm afraid you've lost me," Eliza said, confused.

"Let's just say that I barely recognize her nowadays," Audrey said, somewhat sadly.

Eliza's frown deepened.

* * *

"Eliza!" Blue-green eyes widened in surprise as Sophie spied her friend standing in front of her door, presumably waiting for her to arrive. "When did you get back?" Sophie quickly walked forward and dropped her shopping bags – brimming with pureblood haute couture, from what Eliza could tell - to embrace her, before she opened the door with a silent spell. "Please, come inside. How did you find my address?"

"Audrey told me," Eliza said, peering at Sophie to gauge her reaction. However, Sophie only nodded.

"I see."

"It looks like you've moved up in the world," Eliza remarked, glancing around at the extravagant insides of Sophie's home. "The French Riviera...impressive."

Sophie beamed. "Well, I told you at graduation, did I not?"

"I figured it was just a dream," Eliza admitted.

Sophie snorted lightly. "Dreams...dreams are useless if you don't have the willpower to make them reality. I have a Labrador too. And house-elves. Also like I told you."

Eliza frowned slightly at Sophie's tone, which was a mixture of smug and challenging. "You've always been very determined. So can I assume a fine, rich Parisian gentleman is around, waiting in the wings?"

"But of course," Sophie said and thrust out her left-hand, revealing a sparkling diamond-ring. "His name is Armand. We've been married since Christmas. We had a winter-wedding – it was wonderful and easily the best day of my life. This is his house. Or, ours, I suppose," Sophie said, gesturing around the grand manor.

"And children?"

"I'm so happy you asked!" Sophie beamed again. "The first one is on his way. I only found out last week!"

"And yet you're already sure it's a boy?" Eliza asked.

Sophie scoffed and frowned at her. "But of course it's a boy! A girl is not an option! Armand has appearances to keep and he's the head of his family. He needs an heir!"

Eliza gawked at her friend as it slowly began to dawn on her what Audrey had meant by 'complicated' – Sophie had changed, and not for the better. "I didn't know you cared about things like that," she finally said cautiously.

Sophie shrugged. "I didn't use to. But I was naive. Armand has opened my eyes to the real world. Appearances are_ everything _if you want to get anywhere in life. And it's a simple fact that men are more respected in our society and Armand's family will reflect back on him."

"Well...what if you're wrong and it is a girl?" Eliza questioned.

Sophie's expression became rebellious. "It isn't," she said, stubbornly, and then changed the subject: "So have you seen the error of your ways and abandoned your righteous quest? Have you returned to France for good? And speaking of," she added, before Eliza could answer, "you really should go home to your father and beg his forgiveness. Your family name holds a lot of clout and it does not look good for you to be at odds with your father. I'm sure he'll accept you back, even though you treated him awfully!"

Eliza blinked. "I treated _him _awfully?" She repeated, incredulous. "He disowned me!"

"Because you didn't do as he told you to," Sophie said slowly, as though she was talking to a small child. "I know you've never quite grasped this, Eliza, but actions have consequences, and your father was completely in the right to do what he did after you acted out like that."

Eliza gawked at her. "What's wrong with you? You're not acting like yourself - "

" – I grew up," Sophie interrupted snappishly. "You ought to try it sometime. Make up with your father, Eliza. With your bloodline, so many doors of opportunity would re-open for you and your life would hold so much more meaning."

"My _bloodline?" _Eliza repeated again. "You sound like a pureblood fanatic!"

"I'm not a fanatic," Sophie denied with pursed lips. "But blood is important."

"Not to us, it isn't. Or it didn't use to be."

"Well, you've missed a lot," Sophie stated coolly. "Anyway, are you moving back to France or not? I hope you are – the British are so uncivilised and you really shouldn't have gotten involved in that war of theirs in the first place."

"Yes, I'm back, but the British are not _uncivilised!"_ Eliza protested with wide eyes. "And I wanted to help!"

Sophie scoffed. "Like you've been making a difference. You're just one person, Eliza, and, to be frank, I think that war is a lost cause – for the side you're on. The Dark Lord has a lot of support. His actions are reprehensible, to be sure, but he has some good points."

"_He has some good points?"_ Eliza echoed dumbly, and glanced down at Sophie's left arm, just to make sure she wasn't actually talking to a Death Eater. It was bare, but Eliza wasn't especially reassured by that, considering how her friend – if she could be called that, anymore – was acting.

Sophie shrugged. "I don't blame you for not realising it. You've always had your head up in the clouds."

"This is_ not _you talking," Eliza stated firmly, eyes narrowed. "The friend I knew would never have – "

" – Like I've said, you've missed a lot. While you were on your little crusade, life went on for the rest of us. Armand says - "

" – Armand!" Eliza laughed, incredulous. "Now I understand! It's your husband – he has brainwashed you! And from what I've heard coming from your mouth, it wouldn't surprise me at all if he's some kind of Death Eater supporter!"

Sophie's eyes flashed. "You are out of line!" She hissed. "Armand is an amazing, enlightened and important man! How _dare _you judge him? And under his roof, when you have not even met him! The only thing Armand is guilty of is _loving_ me, and respecting me enough to open my eyes to some cold and hard facts that I was too stupid to realise. Compared to him, you are less than _nothing, _Eliza, and I think it's time for you to leave."

For several seconds, Eliza only stared at Sophie, then she slowly nodded. "Yes. I think so too."

* * *

**3 July**

"I don't understand what happened to her," Eliza admitted the next day, during a visit to the beach along with Julie, her best friend. They were laying on a towel each on the sandy shore, looking up at the blue, cloudless sky, their conversation having drifted to the subject of Sophie.

Julie sighed. "Sophie...Sophie is complicated."

Eliza snorted. "Yes, Audrey mentioned that. When I visited her yesterday...for a moment, I thought I was talking to a secret, evil twin of hers!"

"Well, that's an easy mistake to make, nowadays," Julie said quietly. "She's changed, it's as simple as that."

"No, it's not!" Eliza exclaimed, frustrated. "I don't understand! Admittedly, Sophie was always a little more concerned about appearances and acting properly than the rest of us at school, but not like this!"

"It's just that, really," Julie said. "We're not attending Beauxbatons anymore. There, everything was easy, with no real consequences other than the occasional detention and the possibility of a bad grade. But after we graduated... I suppose the pressure of being an adult got to be too much. Sophie was never quite as good at schoolwork as us, even though she studied more, and she slowly grew more and more distant with less time for me or Audrey. She got so caught up in making a name for herself and was always busy with what she considered duty and important obligations, and catching the eye of some rich guy in the hopes of climbing the social ladder, I guess."

"And then she met Armand," Eliza said quietly, and Julie chuckled ruefully.

"Yes. And then she met Armand." Julie sounded bitter. "The Sophie we knew as children...she'd been disappearing, a little bit at a time, and neither Audrey nor I realised it. And when she met Armand, what little there was left...it _suffocated, _I suppose. We don't get along at all anymore," Julie finished sadly. "Neither me or Audrey – or you, I suppose – got an invitation for the wedding, and while I know she still talks to Audrey, it's always Audrey who reaches out. She thinks she owes it to their friendship. I think she's gotten it into her head that Sophie can still be 'saved'."

"But you don't?"

"I want to," Julie said honestly. "But no, I don't. Sophie...the Sophie we knew is gone. The last time I spoke to her, she made it quite clear she considered me to be beneath her and not fit to be in her company anymore. After all, I'm just a lowly muggleborn."

Eliza turned on her side to watch Julie. "Well, I've never cared about that."

Julie averted her eyes. "Neither did Sophie. At first."

"Well, I'm not Sophie," Eliza said, voice low and sincere. "You're my best friend, Julie. And you always will be. To me, blood is just something running through our veins to keep us alive – not something to judge someone's worth by."

Julie lips twitched into a smile. "Well...you've always been special. By the way, have you been to see your father yet?" She continued conversationally.

"No," Eliza answered shortly. "And I'm not planning to. Why should I?"

"Family is important," Julie said lightly. "And note that I said _family,_ not bloodline," she added when she saw Eliza's incredulous look. "Jeez, Sophie has really made you tense."

Eliza chuckled weakly. "I suppose I am a bit on edge."

"Understandable. Anyway, I know you and your father have your fair share of problems. But he's still your father and he does care for you. I'm pretty sure if he'd known you would stand your ground, he never would have threatened to disown you, since that meant he had to follow through - he would have looked weak, otherwise." She let an eyebrow quirk. "You're more alike than you think." At Eliza's seriously offended look, she began to laugh. "I mean it! You're both proud, stubborn, and intelligent. And I really think the breach between you is affecting you more negatively than you'd like to believe."

"No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is," Julie said firmly.

Eliza sighed in frustration. "Why are you so insistent on this? My father is not exactly your biggest fan!" And it was true – her father had never approved of Eliza's friendship with Julie, considering her muggleborn status.

"Because I know you, Eliza. I may not have seen you for months, but with just one glance, I can tell the conflict between you is hurting you. I really think you should meet with him. Give him a chance. And the fact that I'm the one telling you this – me, the muggleborn whom your father despises – should really clue you in on how strongly I feel about this. It's for your own good, really."

Eliza let out another sigh. "I'll think about it."

"Great!" Julie said happily. "Let me know how it went." She pulled down her sunglasses over her eyes, missing Eliza's disbelieving look.

"I said I'd _think_ about it! Not that I would actually do it!"

Julie waved away her protest with a lazy gesture. "We both know you will. Now shut up. I desperately need a tan."

Eliza huffed. "You're impossible."

"No," Julie corrected. "Just right, like always, and what's more, you know it."

Eliza laughed. "I've missed you."

"And I have missed you too, in case I didn't mention it. Desperately, even." She pulled down her sunglasses to peer at Eliza with a serious look on her face. "By the way, I'm really glad you didn't get yourself killed while you were in Britain. You are such good entertainment."

Eliza laughed.

* * *

**10 July**

Eliza stared at the gates in front of the grand mansion, designed specifically to keep unwanted visitors out. "I can't believe Julie of all people convinced me to do this," she muttered to herself. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she pressed the doorbell.

"Oui?" A small but polite voice said, the echo stretching across the entire lawn in front of the building, making it impossible to discern the actual direction of it.

"Floppy," Eliza said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm here to see my father. Is he in?"

There was a few second silence, before the house-elf of the de Mort family spoke up again, voice trembling slightly. "Yes." Eliza flinched slightly - the fact that her father had truly disinherited her hit home at that moment, as Floppy no longer had any reason to address her as 'little Mistress' like he used to. She realised, with some surprise, she missed it.

The large gates opened and Eliza began the long walk across the pathway to the mansion, her steps slow and deliberate until she reached the heavy wooden doors of the mansion, which slowly swung open. Floppy stood there, waiting.

"Master is waiting for you in the parlour."

"Thank you, Floppy."

Her father stood turned away from her when she entered, hands clasped behind his back. "So...you're back," was the first thing he said, voice cool.

"Yes," Eliza said.

"I always knew you wouldn't manage on your own," Philippe continued and finally turned around to look at his daughter, contempt in his eyes. "But you're mistaken if you believe I will grant you as much as a knut. There will be no mercy from me, Eliza. You made a choice and you will have to live with it. I stand by my decision to disinherit you."

"As I stand by mine to go my own way," Eliza said calmly. "I am not here to ask for money, or forgiveness. And I would never expect to be reinstated into this family, nor do I particularly want to."

Philippe clenched his jaw, and, for several seconds, he was silent, seemingly at loss for words. It was clear he had expected a daughter that was weak and pleading, and as such, was not prepared for the Eliza that stood in front of him now: proud and tranquil. "Then why are you here?" He finally asked.

"To be honest, I am not quite sure," Eliza admitted. "But since I am back in France, I thought I at least owed you a visit."

"Why?" Philippe said harshly. "You have made it clear you do not care for me. You didn't even have the courtesy to tell me you were leaving to my face. Instead, you left a letter!"

Eliza flinched. "That was wrong of me, I admit that."

"Just leave," Philippe sighed, dragging a hand across his face in a tired gesture. "I disowned you – you are no longer my daughter."

"On paper, perhaps not," Eliza answered quietly. "But we both know it cannot possibly be as easy to expel me from your heart as it is to sign a document." Philippe didn't answer, which Eliza took for an agreement. "I do not care that you disowned me. It hurt to begin with, but there were, and still are, more important things for me to focus on."

"More important than your family?" Philippe demanded to know. "Or do you still justify your decisions based on what happened to your mother?"

Eliza shook her head. "No. I know better now. Her death was what led me down this road, but it has long since stopped being the reason I kept on walking. Now, I am just trying to do the right thing."

"You're a fool." Philippe spoke, shaking his head. "A naive little girl, just like you've always been. And it will get you killed."

Eliza shrugged. "Perhaps. But at least I'll go down fighting."

All the fight seemed to leave Philippe at that moment. "I just want you safe. Is that so wrong?"

"If my safety comes at the cost of keeping me locked up like a bird in a cage, then yes. And what about my _happiness,_ father?"

Philippe closed his eyes, his shoulders falling. "Of course your happiness is important." His eyes looked pained. "And perhaps I have been unfair. Perhaps I should have pulled rather than pushed. Perhaps I should have done more to try to understand you. But you have always done what you wanted. I was never given the chance to be a real father."

Eliza looked down. "I didn't think you wanted to be."

"Perhaps it is time to acknowledge we've both made mistakes," Philippe said.

Eliza nodded. "I will be staying in Marseille for the foreseeable future, working," she said carefully. "Perhaps we could try to meet up sometimes?"

Philippe stared at her for a long while, and there was longing in his eyes, and something that looked like disbelief – disbelief that she was reaching out, doubt that she meant it. Then, he nodded, finally accepting her offer as something genuine. "I would like that."

Eliza held out a hand, and her father took it.

"Floppy," Philippe spoke, and the house-elf appeared in the doorway.

"Yes, Master?"

"Prepare dinner for two, please. My daughter will be eating with me tonight."

Eliza beamed. It was a fragile beginning, but it was a beginning, nonetheless. Perhaps their family could still be saved.

She was back in France. And, to her surprise, it actually felt like coming home.

* * *

**30 July**

James looked up worriedly as Lily re-entered the bedroom after one of her many recent bathroom breaks. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I wish you would stop asking me that," Lily asked, slightly snappish, and James winced. They were both feeling on edge: the baby could arrive any day now, and the anticipation was awful. Lily was growing more and more impatient, clearly wishing her pregnancy would just _end already_, while James was walking on eggshells around her, concerned and apprehensive.

"Sorry," James muttered.

Lily sighed, climbing onto the bed, slightly wobbly. For the past two weeks or so, Lily had been clumsier than usual, and her feet, back, hips, pelvis and abdomen _hurt._ "I feel like a giant whale," she muttered and James patted her back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. From the glare his wife threw him, it was clear it was anything but.

"It will be over soon," James said comfortingly, removing his hand.

"You said that yesterday!" Lily exclaimed! "And the day before that! And – "

" – Alright, alright, I get your point," James interrupted. "But I mean it this time. The baby will arrive sooner or later and we just have to be – "

" – if you finish that sentence, I'm not going to be held responsible for my actions," Lily interrupted, her green eyes dangerously narrowed. James wisely shut up. "I'm tired of waiting. I just want to hold my baby," Lily admitted wistfully, sounding rather teary as she placed a hand on top of her belly. "I've carried him for so long…"

"…Still so sure it's a boy, huh?" James asked teasingly.

Lily snorted. "Like there's even any doubt." Suddenly, she seemed to freeze.

"What is it? Lils?" James threw her a panicked look. "Lils, talk to me!"

Lily turned to look at him. "My water just broke," she informed him succinctly.

James stared dumbly. "Oh." He finally squeaked out, his hazel eyes wide.

* * *

"Hello? Remus? Buffy?"

"Frank?" Remus asked questioningly, walking up to his and Buffy's fireplace – Frank Longbottom's head was floating in the fire, looking rather flushed, but exited. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, you mean this?" Frank pointed at his right eye, which was bruised and swollen. "That's nothing, I can barely feel it! Either way, I deserved it – I shouldn't have been standing so close…" The Auror looked rather dreamy for a second, and Buffy and Remus exchanged worried looks.

"Close to what, Frank?" Buffy asked cautiously.

"Why, Alice, of course!" Frank exclaimed, beaming. "She's got quite a right hook! She got tired of my hovering…"

"Right," Buffy said slowly. "And you were hovering…why?"

Frank blinked. "Didn't I tell you?"

Remus and Buffy shook their heads simultaneously.

"Oh." Frank looked rather sheepish. "Sorry, I guess I'm still a little out of it. But who can blame me when Neville's finally here!" Remus and Buffy were giving him identical clueless looks. "Neville! My son!"

Buffy gasped. "Alice has given birth? That's wonderful!"

Frank nodded eagerly, a wide smile stretched across his face. "I can hardly believe it! Eleven hours of labor! Alice nearly crushed my hand on top of this," he pointed at his eye again. "But it hardly matters!" He beamed again.

"Congratulations," Remus said and Buffy nodded in agreement. "We're really happy for you both."

"Thanks!" Frank grinned. "Anyway, I got to go – still have lots of people I need to tell!"

Frank's head disappeared, and Buffy and Remus looked at each other, chuckling. Suddenly the fire flared up again, and Sirius' head appeared. "Hey, Sirius. I guess you heard about Neville too, huh?"

Sirius threw them looks of bewilderment. "Neville who? Never mind. Just get your arses over to St. Mungo's, will you? Lily's gone into labor!"

* * *

**Published:** _23/02 -12_

* * *

**French translations**

Ma chère – My dear.  
Mon dieu – My God.  
Merci – Thank you.  
Je peux respecter ça – I can respect that.  
Vraiment? – Really.  
Non – No.  
Oui – Yes.

* * *

**Trivia**

- Sophie's dream-life of her future is described in ROC ch 21, and other things mentioned in the conversation between her, Julie, Audrey and Eliza in that chapter, have been hinted at here.  
- Fleur Delacour, of course, ends up Beauxbaton's TriWizard Champion in HP and the Goblet of Fire. Apolline is her mother's name according to canon.  
- From canon, we know Neville Longbottom's birthday is the day before Harry's.


	13. Harry

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**31 July**

Buffy, Remus, Sirius and Peter were anxiously waiting outside Lily's hospital room. She and James had been inside for hours already, and still no word. The wait was only made worse from the fact that the room had a strong silencing charm on it, making it impossible to figure out what was going on inside.

"I'm not sure how much more of this I can take," Buffy admitted, leaning her head against Remus' shoulder, who smiled at her in a way that he hoped was comforting, but probably came out looking more like a tired grimace.

Sirius, who had been pacing up and down the corridor for the past ten minutes, came to a stop in front of them. "You and me both," he muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He glanced at Peter, looking rather jealous. "I don't understand how you can be so calm about this, Wormtail."

Peter shrugged, stretching his back slightly. "Someone has to be. And it's not like worrying will help any, so we may as well just relax."

Buffy threw him an incredulous look. "Relax? The child of two of our best friends' is being born, right now, and you think it's even possible to _relax?"_

Peter looked uncomfortable. "Well, it's not like it's your kid…"

"Well, I'm going to be the Godfather!" Sirius exclaimed. "So it may as well be! Even though I still don't know what James was thinking when he asked me. And we're all going to be highly involved in Bambi's life, no matter what, so of course it concerns us!"

Remus let an eyebrow rise. "Bambi?" He asked, sounding amused.

"Mandy introduced me to Disney," Sirius said rather shortly, and Remus quickly dropped the subject, knowing Mandy was still a sensitive topic with Sirius. While their friendship had been repaired, Remus knew he was still on shaky grounds in Sirius' mind: he didn't want to risk upsetting the fragile peace.

"Ah. So you think it's going to be a boy, then?"

Sirius snorted. "Of course it's going to be a boy. I'm certainly not betting against Lily!"

Buffy laughed. "Wise of you. Still, it could be a girl, making James right - "

" – When arguing with Lily, James is never right," Remus, Sirius and Peter chorused.

"I thought you would have learnt that by now," Remus told his girlfriend, amused.

"Well, statistics speak against James, sure," Buffy admitted, "but I've got to believe in girl power, so therefore, I put my belief in a baby girl. Slayer thing."

Suddenly, the door beside James and Lily's opened, and Frank stuck out his head. "Hey," he greeted them. "Are you still waiting for Potter junior?"

"Yep," Sirius said glumly. "He certainly doesn't seem to be in any hurry."

Frank's lips twitched in amusement. "Well, Neville took his time too. Speaking of, do you want to see him?"

Buffy immediately stood up. "Of course we do!"

Frank beamed at her, his pride in his son's birth obvious, and he opened the door wide, allowing her, Remus, Sirius and Peter to enter. In a corner of the room, Augusta Longbottom sat on a chair, knitting. Alice was sitting up in a hospital bed, holding a small bundle wrapped in a blue blanket in her arms. "Hi, guys!" She said, sounding tired, but she, too, was beaming.

"Hi!" Buffy said, being the first to walk forwards, the guys hovering a couple of steps behind her. "He's so cute!" Buffy was cooing at Neville.

Alice grinned widely. "He certainly is! Now, come on, you three," she threw, Sirius, Remus and Peter amused looks. "Don't be shy. He doesn't bite."

Looking slightly anxious, the three marauders walked closer, peering down at the baby alongside Buffy, who was still gushing over the infant: "Look at those little fingers! And that round little face! And the nose! And the rosy cheeks! Isn't he just adorable?" She turned to look at Remus, Peter and Sirius. All three cocked their heads to the side as they took in the newest addition to the Longbottom family.

"He looks a lot like you, Alice," Remus remarked. Both Frank and Alice's faces lit up.

"Oh, you think so too? The midwife told us the same thing!" Alice exclaimed happily. "What about you?" She looked at Peter and Sirius eagerly and Sirius coughed uncomfortably.

"Yeah, sure," he said, Peter hurriedly nodding in agreement. To be honest, both of them thought Neville Longbottom looked a bit like a ripe tomato.

From her corner of the room, Augusta snorted. "Oh, why don't you just tell them the truth?" She exclaimed. "He's ugly, plain and simple, as all newborn babies are! Why would Neville be any different?"

"Mother!" Frank gasped, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head while Alice's eyes widened, and she unconsciously held Neville slightly closer to her chest as if trying to shield him from her mother-in-law. The others threw Augusta just as horrified looks, for various reasons: while Peter and Sirius somewhat agreed, they never would have said it out loud, and Buffy and Remus plain disagreed. Buffy honestly thought Neville Longbottom was a beautiful baby, and Remus thought Neville looked quite cute and made Remus' thoughts drift to the other baby he had seen in his life - his sister, Elizabeth, who had been too adorable for words when she'd been born.

"Oh, don't be upset, Frank," Augusta said. "You weren't a great beauty yourself, or did you think you were born as good-looking as you are today?" Frank flushed. "No, a nice appearance is gained with age, if at all. Newborn infants are always quite hideous to look at, unless you're the parents. If that's the case, love blinds you from seeing it, or somehow transforms the unattractiveness into splendour, since, for some reason, parents like to delude themselves when it comes to their children."

"With the exception of yourself, of course," Frank muttered sarcastically, and Augusta sniffed.

"But of course. I've always been practical."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Sirius, Remus, Buffy and Peter walked out of the room to resume their wait. "Want to bet little Neville will become best friends with Potter Junior?" Buffy asked.

Sirius scoffed. "Well, of course they will be! They're barely a day apart and Prongs and Lily are great friends with Frank and Alice! They'll grow up together and have play-dates and stuff and then prank Hogwarts to death when it's time for them to attend."

"How can you be so sure they'll be pranksters?" Remus asked ruefully.

"Do you even have to ask, Moony?" Sirius snorted. "A son of a marauder, along with a son of Frank, who wasn't exactly a saint during his school-days either, not to mention me as a Godfather! It's pre-destined for them to be the bane of Filch and McGonagall's existence, just like we were."

Before Remus could respond, the door to Lily's hospital room flew open with a loud bang, revealing James in the doorway, glasses askew and his hair even messier than usual. "HE'S HERE!" James looked to be a mixture of terrified, amazed and delighted, all at once, and his hand was oddly bruised and swollen. "HE'S HERE!" James repeated, doing some sort of graceless victory-dance before he skipped back inside the room, nearly stumbling on his own two feet.

Buffy's lips twitched at the display. "Well, a Bambi it is." She entered the room, quickly followed by Remus, Sirius and Peter.

Lily was leaning heavily against a mountain of pillows on the bed, her forehead drenched with sweat and her red hair tousled, but her emerald-green eyes sparkled with something that looked like utter bliss. "Come say hi to Harry," she whispered, smiling at them. "Harry James Potter." James, who had sat back down on a chair by the bed, seemed to have forgotten the presence of his friends and only had eyes for the baby held securely in Lily's arms, a silly little grin on his face.

"He's adorable, Lily!" Buffy whispered, her smile wide. And it was true – Harry Potter was a gorgeous baby, with pink cheeks and long eyelashes. Already, just from his face, one could tell he resembled James, though his features were of course a lot softer. What really sealed his likeness to his father, however, were the tufts of black hair that already looked somewhat messy. "And that hair!"

James beamed proudly. "It's a Potter trait."

"Well," Peter piped up with a small smirk. "At least there is no doubt he's Prongs' son." James and Lily sent him identical glares, and he hastily added: "Not that there was ever any doubt."

Lily carefully moved Harry over into James' waiting arms – for a moment, it looked like James had lost the ability to breathe as he stared down at his son, but when Harry tightly clenched his small fist around the finger James placed in the infant's soft palm, he grinned widely.

"It seems like he's got quite a grip," Remus commented, and James only nodded, still at loss for words.

"Are you alright, Sirius?" Lily asked worriedly, seeing Sirius looked extremely pale, his eyes wide and fixated at the baby. "Do you want to hold him?"

Sirius' head flew up in shock. "Hold him?" He asked dumbly. "Me?"

"Well, he is going to be your Godson," Lily smiled gently.

Sirius shook his head. "Yes...but...he's so tiny! What if - I don't know – squeeze him to death or something?"

James looked horrified at this while Lily chuckled. "That's not going to happen."

Looking rather reluctant to part from Harry, James stood up and placed the baby in Sirius' arms. "Make sure to support his head," he mumbled quietly, carefully stroking the back of Harry's hand to make him let go of his finger. Slowly backing away, he stopped to hover anxiously just a few centimetres in front of Sirius. There was no doubt that he was already a brilliant – and overprotective - father.

"He's so light," Sirius said, amazement in his voice. "Hi, Bambi," he whispered hoarsely. Harry blinked sleepily up at him at the sound of his voice, and for the first time since Mandy left, a wide and genuine smile spread across Sirius' face. And for a moment, he could have sworn Harry smiled back.

"He smiled!" James exclaimed, clearly having noticed the same thing.

From her place on the bed, Lily let out a small laugh. Give two strong, powerful, self-assured men a baby and they melted faster than butter in the sun. It was very endearing. "Don't be ridiculous. Babies don't smile so early..."

"Well, Harry here isn't just any baby! He's our baby!" James said. "He's special!"

Lily rolled her eyes, but she didn't protest anymore against James' statement. "Maybe you should let the others hold him, before he gets too tired to be moved from person to person and start to complain. Loudly."

Looking just as reluctant as James to hand Harry over, Sirius carefully did as Lily asked, Buffy being the next person to hold the littlest Potter. "Hey, Harry," Buffy whispered, smiling when Remus placed an arm around her waist. "I'm your auntie Buffy. I – " her breath caught in her throat as she looked down into Harry's squinting bright eyes, causing her chest to be filled with a sudden longing she didn't even know she had. Suddenly she knew, with clear certainty, she wanted to be a mother...someday.

As if realising Buffy was unable to speak for the moment, Remus took over. "And I'm your uncle Remus," he said softly. "So many people care about you, you know. And you're very lucky to have two amazing parents who love you more than anything. They're family. And they're yours." He reached down to carefully stroke Harry's cheek with a finger, which caused him to let out a small yawn.

They gave Peter a questioning glance, wondering if he'd like to hold Harry next, but Peter looked terrified at the very idea, and backed away, shaking his head frantically. Chuckling a little, Remus and Buffy walked back over to the bed and put Harry back into his mother's waiting arms instead. Lily smiled, leaning her head against James' shoulder when he walked over and joined her and Harry on the bed. All three looked extremely content.

"Think that will be us someday?" Buffy whispered a minute or so later, after they left the room and the small family inside to give them some time for themselves, so quietly only Remus could hear.

Remus looked startled, and for a few seconds, he was completely silent, lost in thought, fear flashing past in his mind's eye, before he forcefully pushed it away. He tightened his grip around Buffy's waist. "Someday," he said, just as quietly, and Buffy smiled.

* * *

**1 August**

"You had news for me, Wormtail?" The Dark Lord asked as he looked down at the kneeling Peter, who shivered slightly as he glanced up. The Dark Lord was looking less human and more and more snakelike for every month that passed by, a result of all the power-enhancing rituals he doubtlessly did. But, Peter thought, it wasn't so much off-putting as it was fear- and awe-inspiring. "I asked you a question," the Dark Lord snarled angrily, and Peter flinched as he realised he had become lost in his own thoughts.

"Y-yes, my Lord," Peter licked his lips. "I-I know you have been targeting the Longbottoms...and the P-Potters," he added, somewhat hesitantly.

"Do you have a point, Wormtail, or shall I just curse you for your incompetence – yet again?" The Dark Lord snapped, and Peter winced slightly. It seemed his plans to impress his Master and make up for his past mistakes may be for naught, considering the bad mood the Dark Lord seemed to be in.

"The Longbottoms – they have had their child. And so have the Potters."

The Dark Lord tensed as the piece of the prophecy Snape had managed to relay to him made itself known in his mind. "On which date?"

"J-just yesterday and the day before," Peter stammered. "T-the thirtieth and thirty-fist of July, respectively, my Lord. Both children were born within hours of one another."

White fists clenched the armrest on his throne angrily. "Their names?"

"Neville Longbottom...and Harry Potter."

"How...delightful," the Dark Lord whispered, his eyes gleaming red. "Do you have any more..._happy_ news for me?" The sarcasm was unmistakable.

"Well, there is one more thing," Peter said, almost eagerly. "It's something I learned long ago, but I haven't really thought about it, until recently. And you said I should tell you everything, even if it may not be all that important – "

" – Just tell me," the Dark Lord spat out, already planning new ways to attack the Potters and the Longbottoms. He would allow no one with a possible power to defeat him to grow up - they had to be dealt with as soon as possible.

"Buffy Summers. She's not only the Slayer, but she's also from another world." Peter said. He hadn't really remembered it at all until Buffy and Remus got back from their trip to Buffy's world, but after they returned and told him all about it, it had dawned on him that he had never informed the Dark Lord about Buffy's origins, something he had now decided to correct.

The Dark Lord stared down at him, expression unreadable. "Summers is from another dimension?" Peter nodded, nearly preening, happy to be of use. "She's a dimensional-traveller?" Peter nodded again, slower this time, noticing how hard the Dark Lord's voice was. _"CRUCIO!"_ Unprepared, Peter fell backwards, twitching and screaming.

The Dark Lord stewed in anger, relishing in Peter's screams. The Chosen; the person who had crossed dimensions that the book had mentioned was someone he had thought of often since he began to use the pensieve to go over his memories and make them clearer. And she had been here all along, in the form of Buffy Summers - right under his nose, and the only reason he hadn't known was because Pettigrew was utterly unreliable, not to mention useless!

He left the curse on Pettigrew for nearly two minutes before he lifted it, leaving the Death Eater gasping and gurgling in a pool of his own urine, before he lost control of his stomach and he threw up. Disgusted, the Dark Lord snarled: "Get out of my sight! You're lucky I'm letting you live!"

Crawling and sobbing, Peter slowly made his way out of the chambers, wondering what he'd done wrong, when all he'd wanted was to be helpful.

Breathing heavily through the slits in his nose, the Dark Lord's entire body trembled in fury, at Pettigrew, and at himself. He should have known something more was going on when a Slayer – someone that was supposed to be a myth – appeared out of nowhere. What was worse, he couldn't just simply kill her and stop the 'new dawn' the book had said she was supposed to help bring forth before it could become a problem, since he still wanted her power.

Still fuming, he began to rearrange his list of plans: taking Buffy Summers' powers for himself so he could kill her as soon as possible, had just moved up to become his number one priority. Killing the Potter and Longbottom children would have to take spot number two and three... After all, they weren't a threat at the moment - just babies. What could either of them possibly do to him?

* * *

Severus nearly stumbled on his way to the Dark Lord's throne room, in such a hurry that he didn't care that he looked less than graceful in front of his fellow Death Eaters. What he had feared had come to pass… When Dorcas had told him the news about Lily giving birth, less than half an hour ago…he could have sworn that his heart had stopped for several seconds. Why? Why couldn't the birth have taken place only a few hours later? Why did it have to be at the very end of July?

He swallowed. Severus knew what the piece of the prophecy he had heard meant - he knew how the Dark Lord would interpret it. Regardless of the promise the Dark Lord had made him, Severus knew that Lily's survival was no longer guaranteed, not while the man's own life was at stake. Coming to a stop in front of the closed doors, Severus forced himself to take several deep breaths to calm down, before he knocked.

"Come in." The Dark Lord sounded tense, and Severus was careful to keep his eyes lowered and his body submissive as he entered. "What is it that you want, Severus? Let me warn you, I am not in a good mood."

"T-the Potters…"

"I assume you are referring to the birth of their little bundle of joy?" The Dark Lord said sarcastically. "I have already been informed. As I'm sure you can discern from the new decorations on the floor, I was less than pleased."

Severus swallowed. "Are you going to kill them, my Lord?"

The Dark Lord was silent for a few seconds. "You are, I am sure, worried that my promise to you no longer stands, in light of this new…_threat_ to my power."

"Yes," Severus croaked out. "I understand I am in no position to ask anything of you…but I beg you to do as you said and spare Lily. It is just the child who is a danger to you."

"And yet, your little _beloved _has been quite a thorn in my side as well, along with her husband," the Dark Lord remarked coolly.

Severus flinched and clenched his fists. "I don't care about him, or the child. I only want _her."_

"How generous," the Dark Lord said dryly. "But like you yourself pointed out, you are in no position to ask anything of me. However, you have guts, to approach me like this." He stood up abruptly. "I will spare your little lady-love, Severus. A promise is a promise, after all, and she's no real threat. Just a minor annoyance. But her husband and child _will _die. I hope you have no problems with that?"

"No, my Lord," Severus breathed out, though his mind was swirling, even as he exited the room. He should feel relieved - the Dark Lord had promised to let Lily live…and yet…uncertainty nagged at his mind.

He didn't want to doubt his Lord. But this was Lily's _life._

Could he afford not to?

* * *

**6 August**

"Are you sure you and Harry will be alright on your own?" James fuzzed over Lily and Harry, pulling a nervous hand through his hair. "It's only been three days since you got home from the hospital..."

Lily rolled her eyes, wrapping a blanket around Harry more securely. "We'll be fine, James."

James frowned. "But – "

" – I know you've been looking forward to seeing the second Star Wars movie for a long time," Lily continued, interrupting James' protests. "Harry and I can manage for a couple of hours."

"Well, _Star Wars_ is important," James muttered. "But you matter even more to me!"

"Well, I would hope so," Lily stated dryly. "But I want you to go. Alright?"

James exhaled loudly, glancing from Sirius who was waiting rather impatiently in the doorway, to Lily. "Alright. Umm...make sure to ask one of the house-elves for help if you need it. They can even get me if something happens. And - "

" – James," Lily interrupted, her left eye twitching in annoyance. _"Go."_

James let out a slight whimper in distress, torn. Sirius let out a frustrated noise. "For the love of Merlin's saggy left – " Lily and James both gasped in horror and Sirius quickly swallowed the last word. "Eh...never mind. Take your time," he finished, glancing worriedly at a dozing Harry, though he was muttering under his breath: "At this rate, we'll miss the movie..."

James sighed. "Alright, alright, I'm coming." He placed a quick kiss on Harry's brow and Lily's cheek, before he left. "Are the others waiting at the movie-theatre?" He asked Sirius, who nodded.

"Yes. Frank too. He wanted to see what all the fuzz was about."

Neither man noticed the sudden glint that appeared in Lily's eyes. Less than a minute after they left, Lily walked over to the fireplace and flooed Longbottom manor. "...Alice, dear," she greeted. "It just so happens that James is out...Frank too? Huh! What a coincidence! How about we take advantage of this delicious opportunity and have a bit of a girl's night? Well, with the babies too, of course... We could invite Emmeline, Dorcas and Marlene as well...and Edgar's wife – she recently had another baby girl, didn't she? ...Delightful! I'll see you soon!"

Lily ended the conversation and pulled her out of the fire, glancing down at Harry whom she had placed securely inside his crib, which James had moved down from his bedroom earlier that day. "I may have decided to skip the movie, but that doesn't mean we can't have fun," she told him with an impish grin.

* * *

"Is James alright?" Buffy asked Sirius worriedly. She, Remus, Sirius and Frank (Peter had opted out) had sat down inside the movie-theatre, but James seemed to be very tense, and was pulling his fingers through his hair nervously.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "He's fine. He's just going through the recent-father syndrome – that is, separation anxiety."

"I know how that is," Frank sighed. "I was really reluctant to leave Alice and Neville alone..."

James' head darted up, and he looked relieved. "You too? So it's not just me, then? I was afraid I was being overprotective – I mean, Lily is a powerful witch, and a great mother, but – "

" – But that doesn't mean you don't worry," Frank finished knowingly. "I understand perfectly. And I can't seem to stop looking at Nev..." he sighed dopily. "He's just so cute!"

"Harry too!" James exclaimed. "He is just too adorable for words! When he's sucking on his thumb – "

" – Or yawning – "

" – Or blinking sleepily – "

" – Or just sleeping! Which he does a lot!"

" – Yeah! Even changing diapers are sort of fun..."

" – Oh, yeah. Except Neville peed on me, once."

" – Really? Oh, I'm so glad it happened to you too! I was afraid Harry didn't like me, or something – "

Sirius groaned. "Someone, make them stop!"

Remus laughed while Buffy grinned. "The movie's starting guys."

Frank and James looked a bit disappointed that they had to end their conversation, but they quickly turned their eyes to the screen. And it didn't take long for their attention to switch entirely to the space drama taking place in front of them.

* * *

**7 August**

"The Force is with you, young Skywalker!" Sirius yelled, and wielded his wand at James. "But you are not a Jedi yet!"

James let his wand lash out in turn, and they clashed together, making sparks fly out of the tip. "Yeah, well, I'm prettier than you!" James yelled back.

"That was not in the script!" Sirius protested. "And like Hell you are!"

"Who cares about the bloody script? This is live!" James laughed as his and Sirius' wands crossed again.

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "You will follow the script or die!" He exclaimed. James just smirked, and lashed out with his wand again, forcing Sirius to back a step. "You have learned much, young one," Sirius panted.

"You'll find I'm just full of surprises!" James retorted.

Sirius grinned evilly. He lashed out twice, his wand hitting James', once again making sparks fly out of both ends, before James' wand went flying. James stumbled, and fell into a roll, moving several feet away from Sirius, who moved closer in a quick stride, his wand held loosely at his side.

"Your destiny lies with me, Skywalker," Sirius said threateningly. "Obi-Wan knew this to be true."

James let out a pathetic whimper, before he fell forwards, kissing the hem of Sirius' robes. "No!" He exclaimed. "Have mercy! I'm not ready to die! And I'm still a virgin!"

Some of the Aurors watching looked torn between confusion, disgust and amusement.

Sirius began to gain a very red color in the face, "I told you to follow the script!" He protested, stomping his foot into the floor.

James grinned and looked up. "So I'm not allowed to improvise?" He asked cheekily, and grabbed Sirius arm, using him as support to get up. However, Sirius was prepared, and used his other hand to push James back on the ground.

Smirking, he returned to his role as Darth Vader once again. "All too easy," he said, as he imitated Darth Vader's heavy breathing. "Maybe you're not as strong as the emperor thought?" James lashed out with his feet towards Sirius' legs, making him loose his balance and fall on his butt. "Impressive. Very impressive," Sirius panted.

In the background, James wandlessly summoned his wand back to his hand, and as Sirius got up, they both lashed out with their wands again, and once again, they crossed at the middle, and once again, sparks flew out.

"Obi-Wan has taught you well," Sirius said. "You have controlled your fear…now release your anger."

James smirked. "Sorry, but no. I don't have temperamental issues like you, old man."

Sirius eyes widened. "Who are you calling old? I'm your father – obey me!"

"You forgot to follow the script," James said sweetly. "That is not supposed to be revealed yet."

Sirius' left eye twitched in annoyance. "Forget about the fucking script! Just DIE!" He lashed out with his wand again, only this time, James did not meet him halfway. Sirius gave him a confused look, as James' mouth began to open and close like a fish. Sirius' eyes narrowed, and he smirked. "Frightened, are you, son?" He hissed. "You should be. You are beaten. It is useless to resist. You have only begun to discover your power. Join me and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy."

"I–I…" James stuttered.

Sirius sighed. _'I will never join you,'_ he mimicked silently, hoping James would take the hint and remember his line. However, James mouth was only opening and closing soundlessly, and Sirius sighed, deciding to pass over James' line and skip ahead to his own: "If you only knew the power of the dark side! Obi-wan never told you what happened to your father!"He cleared his throat, before he said, in a high-pitched voice meant to sound like a bad imitation of James/Luke; _"He told me enough!"_

"And I've had enough!" A gruff voice suddenly said from behind him. Sirius froze. Quickly, he plastered on the smile that he always used when he tried to talk McGonagall out of giving him detention, before he slowly turned around.

"Moody! What a pleasant surprise!" Moody looked completely unimpressed. It seemed his innocent look had about the same effect on the Auror as his former Head of House – none.

"What do you two think you're doing?" Mad-Eye hissed. "This is the Auror Academy! Not a playground! If I had been a Death Eater you would be dead! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" He yelled, and James and Sirius both flinched. "And you're using your wands at TOYS!" He grabbed Sirius wand and pointed it as his face sternly. "This weapon is your life! Do they not teach you ANYTHING about elementary wand-safety while in school these days? If I so much as catch a glint of one of your wands not being used correctly in the future, I will curse you into next year," Moody finished, handing a rather meek-looking Sirius back his wand. "Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," James and Sirius chorused.

"Good," Mad-Eye said, and turned around to walk away. Neither James nor Sirius noticed the pleased smile playing at his lips. Too be quite honest, Moody had been quite amused by the display. More than that, however, he had been relieved and happy that Sirius seemed to have completely recovered from the unfortunate fate that had befallen his girlfriend and was back to his old self.

* * *

Severus shivered from the cold, waiting impatiently from his place on the top of a hill. He couldn't quite believe he was actually doing this...he couldn't believe he had actually done it – he couldn't believe he had sent a letter to _Dumbledore, _of all people. Half-hoping, half-dreading, that the Headmaster would appear, he gripped his wand tighter, turning on the spot forlornly, breathing heavily, almost panting, as his eyes darted around nervously.

A blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air, and Severus gasped as his wand flew out of his grasp, and he fell to his knees. He hadn't even heard the sound of apparition. "Don't kill me!"

"That was not my intention," Dumbledore said, his robes whipping around him as he walked to stand in front of Severus, his face illuminated from the light cast by his wand. "Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"

Severus wringed his hands, his straggling black hair whipping around him from the wind. "No - no message - I'm here on my own account!" He looked a little mad, his black eyes wide and face even paler than usual. "I-I come with a warning - no, a request - please - " He swallowed, having completely forgotten what he was about to say – or rather, how he had planned to say it. Things weren't going like he wanted them to at all.

Dumbledore flicked his wand and all became silent, despite the leaves and branches flying through the night air around them. "What request could a Death Eater make of me?" The Headmaster sounded cold.

"The - the prophecy...the prediction...Trelawney..." Severus managed to gasp out, and Dumbledore's eyes narrowed.

"Ah, yes. How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"

"Everything - everything I heard!" Severus' voice was filled with despair. "That is why - it is for that reason - he thinks it means Lily Evans!"

"The prophecy did not refer to a woman," said Dumbledore coolly. "It spoke of a

boy born at the end of July – "

"You know what I mean!" Severus exclaimed. "He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down - kill them all - " his voice broke off.

"If she means so much to you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?" Dumbledore's expression was unreadable, though his voice sounded light.

"I have - I have asked him - "

"You disgust me," Dumbledore interrupted. Snape flinched and seemed to shrink a little. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?" The Headmasters voice was filled with contempt.

Inside Severus was screaming, even as he looked up at Dumbledore with a blank look on his face: of course he didn't care about them! Potter had only ever been a bully to him, and the son would no doubt end up the same. But Lily...Lily...he _loved_ her. Asking Dumbledore for anything...especially _this..._it _tore_ at him, _pained _him..._disgusted_ him... But he would do it. If it meant Lily's life would be spared... "Hide them all then," he croaked. "Keep her – them - safe. Please."

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?" Dumbledore asked with a raised eyebrow, and Severus gaped.

"In – in return?" The possibility of Dumbledore – the esteemed leader of the so-called light side – asking for something in exchange had never even occurred to him. That was...surprisingly _Slytherin_ of him. Severus knew he was about to be used – that Dumbledore was manipulating him, even – but that didn't matter. He had been more or less used all his life, after all. All that mattered was _her._ "Anything."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I know you know that Dorcas Meadowes is not really a Death Eater. I know you have been pumping her for information in exchange to keep that a secret." Severus flinched slightly. "That stops now." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "From now on, you shall work together."

"You want me to spy on the Dark Lord," Severus bit out through gritted teeth.

"Yes. You are in a much better position to get valuable information than Dorcas." Dumbledore let an eyebrow rise. "Can I count on you to do this, Severus?"

The Headmaster didn't need to spell it out for him. A favour for a favour. Severus swallowed his protests and bitterness. With one word, the point of no return was reached, and sealed his fate. "Yes."

* * *

**__****Published:** _2__9/03 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- With Mandy being a muggleborn, raised in the muggle world, it is not at all strange she would have introduced Sirius to Disney. Sirius' nickname for Harry obviously comes from the Disney movie Classic about the young deer, Bambi, this being a play on Harry being the son of a stag-animagus, James.  
- Whether or not Augusta's cynical opinion of all newborns being ugly and that only their parents feel different is true, I'll leave up to each individual reader to decide.  
- Most infants can open their eyes minutes after their birth, even if their ability to focus aren't that great, so Harry blinking/squinting so soon after his arrival isn't strange at all. Harry actually smiling is more likely to have been Sirius and James' imagination, or a so-called reflex smile, considering most babies' first real smile occur between 6-8 weeks.  
- _Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back_ had its UK premiere in May 1980, so I am assuming it was stilling airing on cinema in August, though I could be wrong. And speaking of ESB, obviously many of the lines Sirius and James used in their mock wand/lightsaber fight were from that movie.  
- Ironically enough, while lecturing Sirius and James, Moody unknowingly uses a line from the later Star Wars movies: "This weapon is your life," as said by Obi-Wan Kenobi in the prequels.  
- "Do they not teach you ANYTHING about elementary wand-safety while in school these days?" This line is based on Moody's line from _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_ chapter 3: The Advance Guard, in which he bemoans: "Elementary wand-safety, nobody bothers about it anymore." And we all know his motto _Constant Vigilance_, by now!  
- A lot of Severus' conversation/meeting with Dumbledore is based on the scene from_ Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ chapter 33: The Prince's Tale.


	14. Hiding

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**8 August**

"Why have you called us here?" James asked Dumbledore, looking quite confused, an expression that was mirrored by Lily, Frank and Alice. Only Harry and Neville looked completely at ease: Neville was fast asleep in Alice's arms, and Harry, from his place in Lily's arms, was looking around curiously at his surroundings, his eyes bright and alert.

All the paintings in the Headmaster's office were noticeably empty of occupants, and Dumbledore himself looked grave, his eyes devoid of their normal twinkle.

The Headmaster sighed. "I am afraid I have some distressing news for you," he said. "Not necessarily bad, but they will certainly be upsetting for you to hear."

"What is it, Albus?" Frank wondered, his forehead set into a frown, as he stared at the Pensieve standing on Dumbledore's desk, filled with a silvery substance – a memory.

"About half a year ago, I went to the Hog's Head to meet with an applicant for the post of Divination teacher. This person was the great-great granddaughter of a very gifted Seer, and it seems, also possesses that same gift."

James, Lily, Frank and Alice all held their breath, curious as to what Dumbledore was getting at. Dumbledore took out his wand and began to prod at the silvery substance in his Pensieve with the tip. A shawled woman rose up, her eyes looking enormous behind her glasses. And then, the woman spoke, her voice harsh:

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."_

Dumbledore flicked his wand sharply, and the figure sank back into the Pensieve and vanished. The Headmaster and leader of the Order turned to look at the now pale occupants of his office, his expression sympathetic. "From the look on your faces, I can tell you have already discerned what this prophecy means."

Alice let out a noise of distress and she hugged Neville tighter to her chest. "W-who?" Frank asked hoarsely. "Who does it mean? Is it Neville or Harry?"

"That, I believe, has not yet been determined," Dumbledore said, voice grave. "It will depend entirely upon who Voldemort decides to mark as his equal – "

" – No!" Lily exclaimed, standing up sharply, her chair falling backwards. Harry let out a slight whimper in protest, though he quickly quieted down when Lily rocked him. Despite her anger, she wasn't about to upset Harry. "This is not happening! That – that _woman_ got it wrong!"

Alice had slowly begun to cry, and Frank quickly wrapped an arm around his wife. James was sitting stock-still, his hazel eyes wide, not wanting to believe what he had just heard. "Dumbledore..." he swallowed. "...Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain that it's about Harry or Neville?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I wish I could tell you otherwise, but the prophecy is quite clear – "

" – How can it?" Lily interrupted, her green eyes blazing. "It couldn't be more unclear! There must be dozens – hundreds – of boys in the world who have been born at the end of July – "

" – But only two whose parents have defied Voldemort three times," Dumbledore said calmly. "I understand your distress, Lily, and I empathise – "

Lily let out a snort. "Empathise? You're probably _happy _about this! After all, this prophecy is proof that Voldemort can be defeated, something you've been failing to do, and now you won't have to! Instead, you can happily put the burden on a _child!_ A baby!"

"I assure you, Lily, I am not gladdened by this, quite the opposite," Dumbledore said, for once looking his age.

"How do you know the prophecy refers to Voldemort?" James asked, and both the Longbottoms and Lily looked at him, surprised that he was the one asking something logical and keeping a level head. "It just says _Dark Lord."_

"Because of the time the prophecy was made. As Voldemort is the only Dark Lord who is currently a threat, it is only him it can apply to. A prophecy is rarely made about an event that is not yet a possibility."

"How will Voldemort mark Harry or N-Neville as his equal?" Alice asked, tears still falling unhindered from her eyes. "And...neither can live while the other survives? I'm afraid I don't completely understand..."

"I am afraid I have no answer to your first question. As to your second... One of them is destined to kill the other so only one remains alive. Neither Voldemort, nor the person the prophecy applies to, will be able to live a fulfilling life as long as the other person is around. One can be alive, without truly _living,_ after all."

"Is there any way to circumvent it?" James asked, his eyes hopeful. "Buffy has defied prophecy – she's told us – "

" – Ah, yes. You are referring to Miss Summers meeting with the Master," Dumbledore nodded. "But the prophecy about that event was still fulfilled – Buffy _did_ die in that confrontation, even though she was also brought back to life. So to answer your question, I am afraid not. This prophecy _will_ play out - but that doesn't exclude something more happening beyond what has been foretold. But alas, that would be impossible to predict beforehand, like the intervention from Miss Summers' friend."

Lily was still shaking her head. "No. I refuse to believe this! There has to be another way! Harry shouldn't have to grow up with this on his shoulders, o-or deal with Voldemort at all! That's our job! _Your_ job! Harry's just a child!"

"But he won't always be," Dumbledore reminded him.

Lily eyes blazed. "And with that _travesty_ – " she pointed at the Pensieve angrily, "he will never get a chance to be."

Dumbledore sighed. "Of course he will. He can still have a childhood – there is no need to tell either Neville or Harry until they are old enough."

James laughed humourlessly, while Frank only stared at the Headmaster in disbelief. "And what age do you consider _old enough,_ Dumbledore?" James asked. "Twelve? Fifteen? Eighteen? So we should raise Harry on a lie, only to rip the ground from under his feet when he's _old enough,_ with no preparation for what he must do? That's just grand." James voice was bitingly sarcastic. "Tell me, what is this 'power the Dark Lord knows not' supposed to be anyway?"

"I have theories, but no real answer for you, James," Dumbledore said sadly.

"So basically, according to you, we're supposed to leave our son's survival up to chance, with no training. All while hoping this mysterious power alone will be enough to defeat Voldemort, something even you, with all your years of experience and power, haven't been able to?" James looked incredulous and not a little mad. "While the rest of us sit around and what? Twiddle our thumbs?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I am not all-knowing, James, and I understand your anger. But please, do not despair too much. There are ways you can delay the prophecy's fulfilment – neither Neville nor Harry has yet been marked, and there is nothing that says it will happen any time soon."

Frank swallowed. "Well, at least we have some time," he said, trying to sound optimistic and failing. "There's no immediate reason for Voldemort to go after our sons, since he doesn't know about the prophecy..." However, even his forced smile quickly disappeared when he noticed Dumbledore's sorrowful look. "Or does he?"

"Not all of it," Dumbledore answered quietly. "But one of his followers were listening when the prophecy was made, and while Voldemort did not hear it in its entirety, he knows the person with the power to defeat him was born at the end of July to parents who have defied him three times. That, along with your track-record against him, will be all the proof and incentive he needs to target your children." Alice tears intensified, while James and Frank now looked resigned. Lily's face, however, was stony. "I suggest you go into hiding – "

" - Just stop!" Lily interrupted. "I won't believe this." She glanced around at Alice, Frank and James. "How can you just accept this?"

James' shoulders slumped. "Lils..."

"Dumbledore said it himself – he's not all-knowing! The prophecy is wrong – it has to be!"

"At this point, it doesn't matter if it's wrong or not," James said, his voice breaking. "As long as _Voldemort_ believes it's true, he will come after Harry. If he was unaware of the prophecy, I'd be all for ignoring it all together – I've never put much stock in divination – but Voldemort _does_ know, and that makes all the difference." He looked up at his wife, his hazel eyes pleading. "I don't want to accept it, Lily, but...what else can we do?"

For a moment, it seemed as if James had managed to get Lily to listen. She stood completely still, looking down into Harry's eyes. But then, she raised her head, and her green eyes were blazing. "No. There's no way I'll ever let Harry – " She took a shuddering breath, and before James could react, she placed Harry in his arms, and ran out of the office.

"Lily!" James shouted after her, and went to follow, but Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let her go, James. She will come back. But right now, in order to understand, Lily needs to see undeniable, tangible proof. She's simply gone to find it."

"Where? To the Seer?" James looked confused.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. To the Department of Mysteries. The Hall of Prophecies."

James looked down at Harry, not wanting to believe that the treasured son he held in his arms was either destined to kill or be killed by Voldemort. And yet...it seemed irrefutable. "And what will she find?"

Dumbledore walked back to behind his desk and let out a deep sigh. "What you have already accepted. The sad and painful truth."

* * *

Tears of denial were blurring Lily's sight as she apparated to the Ministry and made her way to the Department of Mysteries. Just as during her first day at work, the plain black door at the end of the corridor opened, and just like then, Aurora Lovegood, her mentor, stepped out. "Ceres?" Aurora looked confused as she spoke Lily's codename in the Department. "What are you doing here? And without your Unspeakable robes? Aren't you supposed to be on maternity leave?"

"I'm not here on official business," Lily said quietly, pulling up the hood on her cloak and placing a quick notice-me-not charm on it: it wouldn't conceal her identity for long, or as well as her standard Unspeakable robes did, but it would do for this visit. "I need to enter the Hall of Prophecies," Lily began, forcing her voice not to shake "I know it's accessible to the public," she continued when she saw Aurora open her mouth to interrupt. "But I don't want my visit to be on record."

Aurora only stared at her, noticing Lily's trembling hands and an overall distressed demeanour. Slowly, she nodded. "Alright."

Aurora placed a gentle hand at the base of Lily's back and let her through the black door and into the circular chamber. Together, they quickly entered the door to the Prophecy Hall, before it could begin to spin along.

"What prophecy are you here to see?" Aurora asked.

"Hopefully, none," Lily mumbled, knowing that all real prophecies were automatically recorded in this hall due to old magic. If the prophecy Dumbledore had shown them wasn't here, then it was wrong, or fake. But if it was... Lily swallowed heavily and clenched her fists. "If it does exist, though, it's fairly recent, from about six months ago."

Aurora nodded. "Alright. If you know the approximate date, it shouldn't be too hard to find. Six months ago, you said? That would be February... Let's see...logically, it should be between row ninety-five and ninety-seven."

"Thanks," Lily whispered and gave Aurora a grateful look. "I think I have to go alone...do you mind...?"

Aurora, having realises that this prophecy was something personal – perhaps even applying to Lily herself – shook her head. "Not at all. I'll wait here for you."

Smiling weakly, Lily slowly began to walk past the long alleys of shelves until she reached row ninety-four, watching each of the glass spheres on the shelves carefully. Her heart was beating incredibly fast. After making her way up and down row ninety-five twice, she let out a sigh of relief. "It's not here." One row down...two to go. Repeating the process with row ninety-six, Lily let out an incredulous little laugh when it led to the same result: the prophecy wasn't there either. "Dumbledore was wrong," she whispered to herself.

Feeling almost hopeful, Lily began the process anew in row ninety-seven, only to freeze in her steps a little way down when her eyes caught the text written on one of the yellowish labels affixed right beneath one of the Prophecy orbs. "No..." Lily sank to her knees as she stared up at it in horror.

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.  
Dark Lord  
(?)Harry Potter/Neville Longbottom  
and (?) (?).

Bitter tears of grief fell from Lily's eyes as she was finally forced to accept the truth. It was staring her in the face, after all. Knowing she could not touch the prophecy and hear it again (not that she had any wish to), since it did not apply to her, Lily slowly got up from the floor. Taking a deep breath, she dried her eyes and walked back to where Aurora was waiting.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" The older woman asked kindly.

"Unfortunately," Lily muttered. "What does a question mark on a prophecy mean?"

"It depends. If it's beside a name of one or two more persons, it has not yet been clearly determined which one of them the prophecy applies to, and that it can mean either one of them until the prophecy continues to play out and it becomes clear. It can also mean uncertainty: that it doesn't have to mean that person at all, in case another player comes into the picture that it can apply to instead."

"And if the question mark stands alone?" Lily asked with a slight frown, wandering what the two question marks at the end had meant.

"If it stands alone, it means that the prophecy is not applicable to anyone at the moment, or it's too uncertain for the magic to make a deduction: many more things – not necessarily connected to the prophecy at all – will have to play out first."

"I see," Lily muttered, having a feeling Dumbledore had told them far from everything. And she was going to find out what. Harry's life and well-being was at stake, and she was certainly not going to take any chances. She was going to protect him - at all costs.

* * *

"Ah, Lily. You're back." Dumbledore gave Lily a sympathetic smile as she re-entered his office. "Now, as I was saying before you left, I suggest you all go into hiding – "

" – Show us the prophecy again," Lily interrupted, sitting down beside James, her eyes red-rimmed but cool as steel. "You're lying to us." James, Alice and Frank drew in sharp breaths as they turned to stare at the Headmaster, whose look faltered.

"I assure you, Lily – "

" – Had the prophecy not been recorded in the Department of Mysteries?" Alice asked, and her voice was filled with hope.

"Unfortunately, it was," Lily said grimly, and the Auror's shoulders slumped.

Dumbledore's smile was filled with false patience. "Like I said, the prophecy is real – "

" – I don't doubt that, not anymore," Lily interrupted the Headmaster again. "But you're not telling us everything. There's more to the prophecy than what you showed us, isn't there?"

Alice's eyes were wide as she looked at Dumbledore. "Is she right?" She asked, her voice trembling. "Are you holding back on us?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes. But only the first part of the prophecy is about your sons – "

" – I don't care," Frank snapped. "I'm sorry, Albus, but I'll want to determine that for myself, if you don't mind. I've had one nasty surprise too many today."

Dumbledore sighed. "I am afraid I cannot do that." He held up his hand to stall their protests. "It would be wrong of me to divulge something that has absolutely nothing to do with you."

"So once again, you sit on all the cards," Lily spoke bitterly. "Playing God."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I assure you, there is nothing more in the prophecy that has anything to do with your sons, however, it did have something to do with the Dark Lord and the war, I believe. For the greater good, and considering you are now Voldemort's main targets, I cannot in good conscience tell you such sensitive information."

"Well…as long your _conscience _is fine," James said sharply as he stood up. "Come on, Lily." Frank and Alice were quick to do the same.

"Wait," Dumbledore said. "We still need to discuss your living arrangements – "

" – Our living arrangements have nothing to do with you," Frank said, his voice frigid. "Alice and I will remain at Longbottom manor – it is already heavily fortified, and we will make sure it becomes even more warded. No Death Eater will be able to get in."

"The same can be said of Potter manor," James said firmly, though in reality, he was not planning on remaining there, but the fewer people who knew that, including the Headmaster, the better. He knew they were acting snappish – the Headmaster meant well, after all, but considering what they had just found out, James felt they were somewhat entitled.

"Please. There are other steps we can take to assure your safety – "

" – I can't speak for the others, Dumbledore," James said, voice deceptively calm. "But _I _will ensure the safety of my family. _You_ should look to the safety of everyone else in the Wizarding World. After all," he smiled bitterly, "it's what you do, isn't it? Looking out for the greater good?"

Before Dumbledore could answer, he and Lily left, quickly followed by Frank and Alice, all four of them feeling a lot older and more heavy at heart than when they had entered the castle this morning.

* * *

**9 August **

"Are you sure about this, James?" Lily questioned James worriedly, as she watched her husband pack up the things in their bedroom, while she sat in the rocking chair by the window, the motions from the chair helping her put Harry to sleep. "Moving back to Godric's Hollow…the manor is much better warded."

James sighed. "No, I'm not sure, and I know it is, but everyone knows we live here. People will _expect_ us to stay here. I even told Dumbledore that yesterday, if you recall. And if there's something I've learned, it is to always try to do the unexpected in order to keep ahead. That way, you have the moment of surprise on your side. And it's easy enough to set up wards in Godric's Hollow – my father has taught me a few tricks through the years. It should end up just as safe as the manor. And few – if any – Death Eaters knows about our house there." He gave Lily a serious look. "I would never do anything that puts you and Harry in danger."

Lily smiled weakly as she looked down at Harry. "Not intentionally, at least," she mumbled. "I'm scared, James. For us…for Harry…for our _family."_ Tears appeared in Lily's eyes and James walked over to her, kneeling down by her feet.

Grasping her hand as he looked up at her, he spoke: "Lils. Our family will be alright. I promise. I'll die before I let anything happen to you."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Lily whispered and a single tear dripped down from one of her green eyes, landing in Harry's already somewhat messy-looking hair.

* * *

**11 August**

"Bathilda!" Lily exclaimed in surprise when she opened their door and found the old woman on her doorstep. Bathilda Bagshot lived at the very edge of Godric's Hollow, and had been very nice when Lily and James last lived there, always inviting them over for tea. She was a great conversationalist and storyteller – Lily had always found her insight into history, especially, fascinating. The old lady been quite disappointed when they moved away, quite taken with the young married couple. "Please, come inside!"

"I was out in the market-square, and happened to overhear some people talking about you," Bathilda said. "Moving back in, are you?"

Lily smiled at the tiny woman. "Yes."

"A wise decision," Bathilda nodded. "I never saw why you decided to move away in the first place."

"Well, it seemed logical at the time," Lily defended herself as they walked into the kitchen. "James parents had died, and Potters have always lived at Potter manor. It's tradition."

Bathilda snorted and she poked Lily's leg with her walking stick. "Tradition is made to be broken – just like rules!"

James laughed as he entered the kitchen just in time to hear Bathilda's remark, Harry held safely against his chest. "And comments like _that _are the reason I like you! Hi, Bathilda."

"Hello, James. Oh, and this must be little Harry!" Bathilda lit up when she saw him. "I was so excited when I got your letter, telling me the news. Can I hold him?"

"Of course!" James said, carefully placing Harry in Bathilda's wrinkled arms once she'd sat down on a chair. "Make sure to support his head – "

Bathilda glared at him slightly. "I wasn't born yesterday, you know! I think it would be safe to bet I've handled a great deal many more babies than you in my life!"

Lily, who was putting on the tea-kettle, chuckled as James winced contritely. "Sorry. Habit."

"Hmm. Hopefully, this little one won't get your lack of common sense! He looks far too much like you already," Bathilda remarked as she held Harry, who was staring up at the white-haired lady with as much interest as an infant could have.

"Oi!" James protested, while Lily burst out laughing.

Bathilda looked extremely content with Harry in her arms – Harry, likewise, looked completely relaxed.

"It's strange," Lily commented. "He almost never takes to anyone that quickly. He was fussy when Dumbledore held him, and he screamed like the devil when Peter did – "

" – In Peter's defense, he was terrified of dropping him. Harry probably sensed it. It took us ages to convince Peter to try holding him at all," James said.

"Well, I have a way with babies," Bathilda said with a little smile. "Why did you decide to move back here? And is it permanent? I want to know how much longer I can enjoy this little one's company."

"It's semi-permanent, anyway," James answered. He'd felt a bit bad about leaving his childhood home – but Godric's Hollow was home as well: the first place he and Lily had been able to call _theirs._ Besides, the manor wasn't going anywhere and Toby and Saffy would make sure it was well looked after and preserved for the future, in case they decided to move back again. And if they didn't, it would be ready for Harry's use.

He'd felt a little bad leaving Toby and Saffy behind, but the house-elves could visit, and the two really were happier if they were kept busy. Godric's Hollow wasn't large enough for them to be needed, while the manor required constant upkeep considering its massive size. "We've got no current plans to move again. The manor is quite isolated out there on the island. And we missed your company," he finished cheekily.

"Oh, you charmer, you," Bathilda chuckled.

"Still, don't go spreading it around that we've moved back," Lily said cautiously. She knew Bathilda was good-hearted, but she also liked to gossip. "We kind of want to keep a low profile." That she and James wanted to stay hidden with Harry might have been a problem since Godric's Hollow was well-populated, but with the exception of Bathilda, only muggles currently lived in the village. And it was easier to hide in a crowd of people, after all. Dumbledore and his brother were the only wizards that might come around, considering they originated from Godric's Hollow, but Albus always stayed at the castle and his brother lived above his bar in Hogsmeade.

If Bathilda could keep from blurting out they were back, it was unlikely the Wizarding World – and by extension, Voldemort - would find out. They hadn't even told their friends about the move, only Sirius, and Moody, who had helped James set up a few of the wards right before they moved in. The man was so paranoid there was no risk in him letting anything slip, and Sirius was loyal to a fault, though he had wondered about their reason for secrecy.

Bathilda peered at her with her thick eyes. "Are you in some sort of trouble?"

"Well…you know Lily and I have been active against Voldemort," James began, deciding to give her the same answer he'd given Sirius. "And considering how many times we've slipped through his fingers and survived, he's likely to target us. Now that we have Harry, we'd rather be safe than sorry. The less people who find out where we live, the better."

"Understandable," Bathilda nodded. "And you have my word nothing will pass my lips."

* * *

**18 August**

Lily and James beamed at each other as they stepped out of the examination room in which Harry had been given his first check-up. "You're such a bright boy, Harry, aren't you?" James said in a babyish voice, scrunching up his face. Harry stared up at him, seemingly confused.

Lily, even though she was just as delighted that the news from the Healer had only been good - that Harry was progressing normally, even a little ahead of most infants - rolled her eyes. "Your father is such a silly man, isn't he?" She cooed down at Harry. In response, Harry too let out a cooing sound, his lips stretching into a grin.

"Biased towards you already, I see," James huffed, though he was smiling. It had been ten days since Dumbledore told them the prophecy. For the first few days, things had been tense, especially after they left the manor and moved back to Godric's Hollow. The move was a confirmation that things were not the same, and the prophecy had been hanging over them like a dark cloud. Both Lily and James had hated the thought of hiding away in Godric's Hollow, but there wasn't much else they could do.

After Bathilda had started coming around, the tension had eased up, however, especially once Harry began to be more alert and do more than sleep. Every day, their son was doing something new. It was mostly small things, like him being able to his head while lying on his tummy, reacting to different noises, making sounds of his own and developing a real smile. It was simply impossible to be depressed in his presence, and through an unspoken agreement, James and Lily had decided to enjoy every small moment and not let the prophecy destroy what they had. Come what may, they would face it together, as a family.

It was this agreement, and Harry's rapid growth, that had allowed them to let go of their anger at Dumbledore. Dumbledore's only crime in this instance was being the bearer of bad news. The man meant well, even if he did care about the greater good too much – but he was a leader, and leaders made difficult decisions. Yes, it was a hard pill to swallow, considering how the prophecy affected them personally, but to ask Dumbledore to reveal all of it - even the parts that did not apply to them - had been rather selfish. And if that was the case, why worry about it? They had enough to deal with.

Through mutual agreement, they had revisited Dumbledore a couple of days after their move, telling him about their new living arrangements, and to ask him to help James – alongside Moody – to ward Godric's Hollow. Also, they had asked him to perform the ceremony that established Harry's magical guardian during which Sirius would officially be made Godfather, something the leader of the Order had gladly agreed to.

"Harry simply knows his mother always knows best," Lily smiled sweetly, and James laughed.

"Smart boy," James said, ruffling up the messy tufts of hair on top of Harry's boy. "It took me awhile to learn."

"Already a sign Harry has clearly inherited my brains," Lily said smugly, and James laughed again, the sound drawing the attention to some of the people in the hospital. His laugh died and his eyes darted around nervously. "We should go." Just because they had decided to enjoy their life didn't mean they had to be stupid, and with Voldemort targeting them, staying in an open, public place like St. Mungo's for longer than necessary wasn't a very good idea.

Just as they were about to leave, however, they heard a familiar voice call their names: "Oi! James! Lily!"

The two turned around, seeing Lucan Davis jog up to them, a wide grin on his face. "Hey, I thought I recognized you," the former Ravenclaw and Mandy's once best friend, stated. "What are you doing here?"

"Harry just had his first check-up," Lily said proudly. Beside her, James tensed, his wand held tightly in his hand, eyes looking for any suspicious movements from the people around them.

"Oh! He's really cute…" Lucan beamed at Harry who blinked up at him with alert eyes. "Speaking of children, I'm just coming from Belinda's hospital room - she just had our baby! It's a girl – we're naming her Tracey. Sirius did tell you Belinda and I were expecting, right?"

"He may have mentioned it, yeah," James said, though he really couldn't remember. If he had, it had probably slipped their minds after Harry's birth, and then finding out the prophecy. Relaxing a fraction, he threw Lily a quick grin. "How was the birth? Lily nearly crushed my hand." The red-head rolled her eyes.

Lucan laughed weakly. "Well, Belinda didn't do that, though my eardrums are still ringing: there was a lot of cursing involved, and threats of me never touching her again, stuff like that. Anyway, I'm really glad I ran into you – I've been trying to get in touch with Sirius, but he's not answering my letters. Has he mentioned Mandy at all?" Lily and James exchanged glances as Lucan babbled on: "I have been writing her sister, the muggle way, but I haven't gotten an answer, so I was wondering if he's heard anything about her."

James shook his head. "He hasn't mentioned anything. Whenever Mandy comes up, Sirius sort of clams up."

Lucan let out a disappointed sigh. "I suppose I can understand that. One more question: I know Sirius is involved in the war somehow, and I bet you guys are too…and even if you aren't, you were in the Auror program, James, which means you're probably better informed than I am… Does the war look to be ending anytime soon?"

Lily and James exchanged looks again. Knowing of the prophecy and knowing that Harry or Neville might be the only ones who could end the war, it didn't look likely, however, they couldn't tell Lucan that. "I'm sorry," Lily said quietly. "It's impossible to tell."

Lucan nodded. "The reason I'm asking…after what happened to Mandy, Bel and I began to talk about moving abroad, at least until the worst blows over. It's not that the thought of running away from our own country appeals to us, but now we have Tracey to think about… And with Belinda's near blood-traitor status for not only marrying a muggleborn but also having a child with him, we feel a bit like high-potential targets considering You-Know-Who's agenda."

"Leaving the country might actually be a good idea," Lily said. More friends out of harm's way could only be a good thing. "Temporarily, though, right?"

"Of course. Both Belinda and I want Tracey to go to Hogwarts, but we expect the war will be over long before that! I mean, it can't possibly go on for another eleven years!" Lucan answered with a light chuckle. "Anyway, I should do what I actually came out here to do: get something to eat. Both Bel and I are starving!"

Lily laughed uneasily. Unfortunately, with the prophecy now in play, the end resting on either Harry or Neville, it was highly likely the war _would_ drag on for another eleven years, and even longer. But she couldn't tell Lucan that. "Well, it was great to see you, Lucan," she said instead, noticing her husband's rigid form. "Say hi to Belinda from us, and congratulations on your daughter."

James put an arm around Lily's waist in a protective gesture: a patient standing in line to the reception had been glancing over at them too often for his comfort during their conversation. "We'd love to stay and chat, but we're in a bit of a hurry," he said.

Lucan nodded and waved as he moved off, presumably towards the cafeteria, while James and Lily hurried towards the exit. Voldemort had eyes everywhere, and the sooner they got home, the better. Harry was their main priority now.

* * *

**12 September**

"Buffy Summers," Voldemort hissed to his inner circle Death Eaters. "You all know of her – she is a member of the Order. Until now, you have thought of her to be of little consequence, regardless of her status as the Slayer. However, I have been given some new information, escalating the threat she brings. I want her. And I expect one of you to bring her before me."

After learning she was a dimensional traveller, his plan to take her powers for his own quickly had become even more important. He needed her captured. While he still didn't know how he was going to transfer her powers to himself, he was sure it would be easier to come up with a way if she was his prisoner. And after he had them…he could kill her, neutralizing the threat she brought as the book's 'Chosen.'

The easiest way to bring her in would be to have Pettigrew do it, considering he was 'friends' with Summers. But considering how many times the man had screwed up so far, he had no doubt he would do it again, and he couldn't risk it. Another option was to have Dorcas Meadowes do it, also a member of the Order. But he still wasn't sure if he trusted her completely. No. This mission could only be entrusted to his most loyal followers. But even they could – and would – fail if they didn't take the danger she brought seriously. And from what he was hearing as they talked amongst themselves right now, they weren't taking it anywhere near seriously enough.

"Do not underestimate her," he continued coolly. "I have seen her in battle. _You_ have seen her in battle, and in fact, she has _defeated _some of you in battle. And yet, you think this will be easy?" Looking contrite, the Death Eaters lowered their heads.

"You are my best and brightest. Do not prove me wrong. And whatever you do, _do not _kill her. If she were to die in the process of her capture, I would be…_severely_ disappointed. I want her alive." He stood up abruptly. "Do whatever you need to in order to draw her out. But do not act without clearing it with me first." He sneered at you. "I know you think you will win more of my favour if you are the one to bring her in. But ambition, while all well and good, can also blind you. Tread carefully."

And with that, the Dark Lord left the ante-chamber, leaving an excited and thoughtful inner-circle of followers behind him.

* * *

**28 September**

"Hey, Sirius, come in," James greeted his best friend. "We're almost ready to begin."

Sirius stepped into Godric's Hollow, following James to the living room. He was nervous, but kind of excited at the same time – nervous, because his status as Harry's magical guardian – as Harry's Godfather - was about to become official, and excited because…well, because of the same reason, really. Confusion filled his eyes however, when he realized the only people present were him, Dumbledore, and the Longbottoms, aside from Lily and James of course. Harry and Neville were each being held by their mothers.

"We decided to combine Harry and Neville's ceremony," James told him, not noticing Sirius' look.

"Where is everyone else?" Sirius wondered. "I expected most of the Order to be here for this. Or at least Remus, Buffy and Peter."

"We didn't invite them. We're in hiding, remember?" James said, voice low.

Suspicion reared its ugly head. When James had told him of his and Lily's decision to move back to Godric's Hollow, and to keep it a secret, he'd been somewhat surprised. But he'd just thought James had meant to keep it secret in general – to people who didn't know them - not applicable to those in the Order or their closest friends. And yet, it seemed he'd been wrong.

Sirius frowned. He knew James. And the rather vague reason his best friend had given him was nowhere near dire enough for him to need this kind of secrecy: pretending to still live at the manor, using it like a red herring… Something more was going on. James to go into hiding – _real _hiding – was if things were really bad. But for some reason, James didn't trust him with the truth.

Perhaps Voldemort was specifically aiming for him or Lily…but no, that didn't make sense either: after all, Voldemort had been targeting them for some time now. Sure, Sirius supposed it was possible that James didn't want to risk Lily's life since they had Harry to think of now, but if that was the case, it was more likely James would have sent Lily and Harry into hiding on their own. The only reason Sirius could think of for James to hurry into hiding like this _with_ both his wife and child was if he feared for _Harry's_ life and wanted to make sure Harry was always protected _directly _by him. He would never back away from the frontlines otherwise. James would never be content with hiding away while others fought, unless it was to save his family. But for the life of him, Sirius couldn't figure out why Harry would be a target – he was just a child! "Prongs – "

As if he had realized Sirius had just come to some sort of realisation, James grabbed his arm and dragged him aside to a corner of the room where the others couldn't overhear. "Don't ask me questions I can't answer, Padfoot," James said, and he looked pained. As if knowing what Sirius was thinking, he continued: "It's not about trust. But for now, I've told you all I can."

Sirius threw him a frustrated look. "You've told me nothing! All you gave was some lame excuse about Voldemort targeting you, and that's why you and Lily decided to vacate the manor! Which is _insane_ – Voldemort was targeting you before, and anyway, the manor is a lot better protected!"

"Not anymore," James smiled grimly. "I've put up wards, along with Moody and Dumbledore. It's safe. And nowhere near as obvious as the manor to live in. And yes, Voldemort was targeting us before, but we have Harry now - "

" – That's still not reason enough, Prongs," Sirius hissed. "Despite the new protections on this place, I doubt it's any better protected than the wards on Potter manor. The only reason for this move is to use the manor as a…_decoy _building. And the only reason for you to do_ that_ is if you're absolutely sure Voldemort is going to attack you, probably soon, which doesn't make sense either! He's only gone after Lily's parents, for revenge. Wouldn't it make more sense to place her sister in hiding? The only time he's outright sought out you and Lily with the intent to kill has been on the battle field! Obviously, something big has happened to change all that. And the only conclusion I've been able to come to for you to be content with hiding away like this is if Harry - "

"Sirius, _please!" _James hissed, abruptly silencing Sirius who narrowed his eyes.

"I'm on the right track, aren't I?" His best friend asked grimly. "Prongs…"

James blew out a loud breath, pulling a hand through his messy hair. Sirius could be extremely perceptive sometimes – too bad it had to be now. "Don't speak anything more of this, alright? It's complicated, and I want to tell you, but I _can't _right now."

"Right now? You mean you'll tell me later?" Sirius asked, his grey eyes narrowed.

James sighed. "Eventually. But no promises, Padfoot." To Sirius, James suddenly looked old. "Times are changing, Pads. Things are happening so fast I feel like I can barely keep up. And this…the reason Lily and I moved back here…it's big."

"X-Wing, or Star Destroyer-big?" Sirius asked, attempting to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, James wasn't smiling.

"Actually, it's more along the lines of Death Star-big," James said grimly, continuing the Star Wars analogy.

Sirius' eyes widened. Suddenly, he felt extremely afraid for his best friend. It wasn't a feeling he particularly enjoyed. "That's…big."

"Yeah," James muttered. Then, he put on a bright smile on his face and he clapped Sirius on the back. "Anyway, we've got a ceremony to get through! Got to make your Godfather status official, and all!"

Sirius chuckled weakly. "I'm still quite sure you're insane for asking me."

"Nonsense," James said as they rejoined the others. "Harry adores you!" As if agreeing, the almost two-month old baby gurgled happily, letting out a "gah goo!" sound, stretching his small, chubby little hands out towards Sirius, whose heart melted at the sight, and with a grin he took Harry into his arms from Lily.

"By the way, who is the Godmother?" Sirius asked, bouncing Harry carefully in his arms. "Alice?"

Lily sighed. "No. We actually decided against one. If circumstances were normal, I would have asked Buffy, but…" she trailed off, leaving 'these are not normal circumstances' left unsaid. James clapped Sirius on the back again.

"Twice the fun for you, eh?" He stated with a smirk, succeeding in easing the tension.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Shall we begin, then?" He asked and everyone nodded, getting into their positions. For Sirius, the ceremony passed by in a quick daze – he didn't pay attention to anyone other than the baby in his arms. He barely noticed when the magic that bound them together as Godparent and Godchild settled over the two, establishing Sirius as Harry's magical guardian. His vows to guide and protect Harry throughout his life left his mouth automatically, when Dumbledore asked the customary questions.

Then, it was suddenly over, and it was James and Lily's turn to be established as Neville's Godparents, something Sirius paid absolutely no attention to at all, fixated on Harry – his _Godson! _His responsibility. It was a frightening concept. And yet, it felt right. As he looked into Harry's face, he found peace there – and for a moment, the war had never felt further away.

"You'll be a great wizard, Bambi," Sirius whispered, smiling, despite the rather painful grip Harry had on his hair. "You'll do great things, I just know it. And I'll be there to see every step of the way." Harry tugged at Sirius' hair even harder, causing Sirius to wince, though the smile didn't leave his face. "You're a right little marauder, aren't you?"

Harry's mouth stretched into a smile that looked almost mischievous. "Yep, no doubt about it," Sirius muttered to himself as he slowly began to try and untangle his precious hair (or what remained of it) from Harry's fingers.

* * *

******__****Published:** _1__9/04 -12  
********__**Published:** __24/06 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Just like in canon _HP and the Order of the Phoenix_, the prophecy about Harry and Voldermort can be found in row ninety-seven in the Hall of Prophecies. Incidentally, I wonder how many rows there are...  
- In canon, the Prophecy Record is simply marked by"S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D. Dark Lord (?)Harry Potter" while the Road of Sacrifice version states "S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D. Dark Lord (?)Harry Potter/Neville Longbottom and (?) (?)" This is because it is not yet certain if it applies to Harry or Neville, while by the time OOTP comes around, Harry has been 'marked' and as such, him being the subject of the prophecy is almost certain – Neville has been removed as an option, though the question mark beside Harry's name remains just in case another potential subject comes into being. The two additional question marks are of course referring to the people (as of yet not revealed) mentioned by the two additional parts of the _Roads Travelled_ prophecy.  
- In _HP and the Order of the Phoenix,_ Unspeakable Boderick Bode is sent by Voldemort under the Imperius curse to retrieve the Prophecy Record in the Department of Mysteries for him, and is taken to St. Mungo's, suffering from spell-damage (he is later killed by Devil's Snare sent by Death Eaters when he shows sign of improvement). From this, we learn that a Prophecy can only be obtained by the person(s) it is about, which is why Voldemort, still lying low by this point and not willing to retrieve it himself and possibly be exposed to the Ministry, lured Harry there to retrieve it instead. As an Unspeakable, Lily would know the danger, which is why she does not touch the prophecy.  
- In a lot of fanfiction-stories, the prophecy is a subject of either dislike, disbelief, or like: either way, it's a great plot-device, depending on how you interpret it. Some of the problems inherent in the prophecy is brought up here, in the discussion with Dumbledore: as long as Voldemort believes in its 'most straightforward meaning' (even if it isn't all that straightforward...), the Potters and the Longbottoms can't disregard it, even if it is full of holes.  
- James worries that the manor being an obvious place to live and therefore, he chooses Godric's Hollow…sound familiar? Readers of Harry Potter will recognize this in another canonical context: a deadly one. This chapter is where the idea to use Sirius as a decoy in the future because he is too obvious a Secret Keeper, is subconsciously planted. In canon, James and Lily switches to Peter…and we all know what that led to.  
- Based on what we know of Bathilda Bagshot from_ HP and the Deathly Hallows__, _we know she wrote_ A History of Magic_ and knew quite a lot of Dumbledore's sordid history as well. From Lily's letter in chapter 10:_ Kreacher's Tale,_ we learn that she is also quite a good friend of the Potters who dotes on Harry and likes telling stories.  
- Tracey Davis is a half-blood Slytherin student from Harry's year that appears in a class-list draft for Harry's year that J.K. Rowling mad for her earlier plans of the books, though she has never appeared in canon. I always thought it interesting that she was a half-blood, since other than Snape and Voldemort, all Slytherin students appear to be pureblood. Anyway, this existence of a character we know very little about allowed me free reign in creating a background for her. This background obviously came in the form of Lucan Davis (muggleborn and Mandy's best friend in Ravenclaw, in case you've forgotten...) and Belinda Greengrass (pureblood), who were not only made up to give Mandy friends outside the marauders, but also to make them Tracey's parents.  
- Additionally, though it has not been mentioned in _Roads Travelled_ as of yet, Belinda's older brother (another OC, obviously) is meant to be the father of Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, canon characters from Slytherin house (Daphne is in the same year as Harry and Astoria becomes Draco Malfoy's wife). This makes them Tracey's cousins. I think you can see I'm already planning for the future here, though very avid HP fans may have suspected something as far back as_ Road of Innocence,_ if Lucan and Belinda's last-names caused an AHA!-experience due to recognition (though Davis is a pretty common last name, Greengrass is not).  
- For those of you who do not feel as home in the _Star Wars_ universe as I do, here is a general size-comparison between an X-wing, a Star Destroyer and the Death Star, just to put James and Sirius' analogy into perspective: An X-Wing is a starfighter used by the Rebell Alliance, around 12,5 metres in length with four laser canons and proton torpedo launchers. A Star Destroyer is a term used to describe a gigantic warship with enough firepower capable of destroying an entire star system. The Death Star is an imperial military battlestation the size of a moon capable of destroying an entire planet with a single shot of its laser, and considered to be 'the Ultimate Weapon.' It was also built to be indestructible (note: built to be, but it wasn't...just like Voldemort isn't unbeatable)  
- The reason Harry doesn't have a Godmother is not only because J.K. Rowling said he didn't, but also because I needed Buffy not to be the Godmother for a reason that will become apparent later.


	15. Resignation

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**11 October**

"James!" Lily hissed, her voice barely more than a whisper as she frantically waved at her husband to join her in the doorway to Harry's nursery. "James, hurry!"

"What is it?" James asked, walking out of his study with a worried frown. "Is something wrong with Harry?"

"Wrong? No, everything's perfect! Look!" Lily pointed eagerly towards Harry's crib, in which their ten week old son was lying on his back, occasionally letting out a bright, gurgling laugh: that wasn't what was amazing, however – the reason for his laugh was. Over his crib, and right in Harry's line of sight, some of Harry's cuddly toys and his pacifier floated.

James' breath caught in his throat. "Y-you're…you're not the one doing that, are you, Lils?" He asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Like predicted, Lily shook her head, beaming. "No."

Stunned, James could only watch as Harry let out another sound of happiness and one of the stuffed animals – a stag that looked a lot like his own animagus form – floated down to land beside Harry, while the other toys dropped to the floor around the crib. Lily and James exchanged delighted looks. "His first magic, Lils," James exclaimed, his hazel eyes bright. "I can hardly believe it…his first accidental _magic!_ I was nearly six months old before I made anything happen…"

"I know, isn't it amazing?" Lily grinned widely, letting out a happy sigh. "Oh, James, I can hardly bear going back to work after my maternity-leave is over…"

"Then don't," James said. "Nothing is stopping you from staying at home, Lils, and we're supposed to be lying low anyway." He let out a sigh. "I've actually been thinking about quitting the Aurors as well. It's not like we need the money at all."

Lily's eyes were wide. "James…you love your Auror training."

"Yes, but I love you and Harry more," James said honestly. "You are the most important to me, Lily, and with Voldemort out there, targeting our son… I'd just feel better if I stayed at home, knowing I would be here to keep you safe if anything happened." He glanced into the room again: Harry was now letting out squealing noises of joy at 'Prongs the cuddly toy,' as if he was trying to hold a conversation with it. "I need to prioritise. I think I've been focusing too much on being a good Order member and Auror, while all I want is to be a good father and a husband to you."

"And you don't think you can do both?" Lily asked curiously. "You've been handling it so far."

"So far," James agreed. "But I have to handle the Potter duties and assets as head of the family, as small as it might be, on top of everything else, and I can already tell trying to do everything will only cause me to mess up or neglect some part of it. I'd rather give being an Auror up. I can always return to that later on. Right now, you and Harry are what matters – I don't want to miss a single moment of Harry growing up."

"Me neither," Lily admitted, letting her head fall on James' shoulder. "I'll floo my mentor tomorrow and talk to her. I don't think I want to quit completely, but maybe I can post-pone my return, and cut down on my working hours."

James nodded. "Sounds good. And I'll talk to Moody on Monday."

* * *

**12 October**

"There shouldn't be any problem in extending your leave," Aurora Lovegood said. "I must warn you though, that when you do eventually return, it is unlikely I will be your mentor."

Lily let an eyebrow rise. "Oh? Why not? Are you quitting?"

Aurora laughed. "Not at all. I'm just taking my own maternity leave soon."

"You're pregnant?" Lily exclaimed. "Congratulations!"

Aurora inclined her head. "Thank you. Xeno and I are over the moon."

"I bet," Lily mumbled. "Do you remember my visit to the Hall of Prophecies?" She asked hesitantly, changing the subject.

"Of course I do, Lily," Aurora said. "It was only a couple of months ago."

"I don't think I ever thanked you for letting me in without registering my visit."

"It was no problem, Lily," Aurora assured her. "It's not like it was one of the truly dangerous rooms, and you seemed...quite upset that day."

Lily smiled weakly. "Yes, well, I was. And about those dangerous rooms... On my first day at the Department of Mysteries, you asked me if death was something that interested me - "

" - And you said you were more interested in the opposite, which is life," Aurora interrupted. "I remember. Where are you going with this, Lily?"

Lily swallowed. "After I said that, you suggested that if I was ever ready to move on from spells and potions research, you knew which room you thought I should be in. What did you mean by that? Since you have a chamber for death, do you also research life?"

Aurora sighed. "Not exactly. The room I meant...I was speaking of the locked room." Her lips twitched slightly. "I know that, lack of permission be damned, you have been peeking into all the other rooms, Lily, in an effort to figure out all the fields of study we do down there. I also know that when the locked room failed to let you in, you were quite annoyed."

Lily blushed, but couldn't deny Aurora's accusations. "Well, I was curious…"

"Which is part of the reason you work there," Aurora said. "But…what is that muggle saying? Curiosity killed the cat?"

"But satisfaction brought it back," Lily countered and Aurora laughed. "Aurora, please, tell me – what do you study in the locked room?" Aurora stopped laughing. Lily swallowed. She knew that if there was a way to save Harry – to protect him from Voldemort if he tried to kill him – it was likely she could find it in the Department of Mysteries. But if there was no room where they studied life, Lily hoped the locked room was where they studied some sort of equivalent. "It's not just curiosity," Lily said. "It's _really_ important."

Aurora took a deep breath. "Life is so much more than just being alive," she said slowly. "A person can be alive, but not truly _live." _Lily frowned slightly, as a line from the prophecy came to mind: _neither can live while the other survives. _It seemed, without knowing the prophecy, Aurora had touched upon the same thing as Dumbledore, who seemed to be of the same mind:that neither Voldemort, nor Harry (or Neville), would be able to live a fulfilling life as long as the other person was around.

"A lot of what we study in the Department of Mysteries has to do with life, and what makes it worth living," Aurora continued. "I suppose the locked room is a part of that, but I can't tell you anything else._ I_ don't even have access, though I know what's in it. To get permission to enter it, along with someone else…" She sighed. "I will need to get permission from _countless _of people, and I don't even want to _think _about all the channels I will have to go through…" Aurora sighed. "I will do my best to get you in that room, Lily, but don't get your hopes up. It may be weeks – perhaps even months – before I can get you an answer, and even then, I can't promise it will be the one you want to hear."

Lily nodded. "As long as you try. Thank you."

Aurora smiled. "You're a good person, Lily. And though I don't know why you want to get in that room, I know that if I get you in, you won't misuse any information you find. Of course, there is no guarantee what you're looking for will even be in there."

"I know. But at least there's a chance," Lily said.

* * *

**13 October**

On Monday morning, after heading into the Auror Academy, James immediately headed towards Moody rather than following the other senior recruits to the duelling hall. Seeing Sirius' questioning look, he stopped and said: "You go on ahead – I just need to talk to Moody for a second."

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Alright. I'll wait for you," he said decisively, leaning back against a wall, arms crossed.

James barely held back a grimace. Ever since the ceremony which established Sirius as Harry's Godfather, Sirius had been highly suspicious of the motives that lay behind James and Lily's return to Godric's Hollow. He had already figured out too much, and with James now resigning his position among the Auror corps, he would be even more relentless in his pursuit for answers – it would be impossible to keep the truth from him.

"Fine. It will only take a moment, though," he added, hoping this would get Sirius' moving, which would in turn, postpone their inevitable conversation about what was going on. Unfortunately, it backfired.

"Well, in that case, I'll just go with you," Sirius said with a slight smirk.

James threw his best friend an exasperated glance. "Padfoot…" If he were honest with himself, James actually wanted Sirius to know – he hated the idea of keeping something this big from his best friend – especially since Harry was his Godson – and he needed someone to confide in. Someone other than Lily since James was determined to be strong for her: he didn't want to burden her with his own worries, when he knew how scared she already was. But while he wanted to tell Sirius about the prophecy didn't mean he was looking forward to that conversation – far from it. If he knew Sirius right, his reaction would probably equal hell itself breaking lose.

"Prongs," Sirius retorted, not missing a beat.

James let out a noise of frustration, before he turned to walk in Moody's direction. Not deterred, Sirius followed. Moody, who was having what looked to be a rather intense discussion with Bartemius Crouch, the current Head of the Magical Law Enforcement, and a general pain to deal with, looked increasingly frustrated, his magical eye swirling around its socket.

"...So you see, it's impossible to increase funding to the Auror Academy at the moment," Crouch was sounding rather smug. "You're not the only department in need of more Galleons, and you've already been given an increase to support all the recruiting you've been doing. I am not denying the Aurors' importance, especially in times like this, but I'm not seeing the result I've been hoping for. The trainees aren't living up to expectations, which is hardly my fault. It's_ your_ job to train them. Either way, isn't this sort of discussion something Blake is supposed to be doing? He is Head Auror, is he not?"

"Blake is busy with the paperwork you keep sending his way," Moody said gruffly. "Like he doesn't have better things to do…"

Crouch's eyes narrowed. "While we are at war, and in comparison dealing with documentation may seem pointless, things still need to go through the proper channels, or there would be chaos." His expression sharpened. "Of course, I wouldn't expect you to understand that, Alastor, but then again, that is precisely the reason_ I_ am the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement and not _you _or Don ,_" _Crouch sniffed, "there is no denying your skill with a wand, or your efficiency in dealing with dark wizards. Your word carries a lot of clout." A shrewd look appeared in his eye. "If it were to somehow get around that the great Alastor Moody himself supports my proposal to give the Aurors the go-ahead to use the Unforgivables, perhaps I would be able to do something in regards to that funding. It should also make the Aurors twice as efficient in getting rid of the Death Eater threat – after all, dead men do no damage." A twisted smile appeared on his face.

Alastor snarled. "I might agree you have a point in that, but supporting anything you have to say would also give the impression that I support _you _– which I don't."

"So that's a no, then?" Crouch said coolly.

"It is," Moody agreed. "Ah, Potter. Black." His magical eye swivelled around to look at their approach, and Crouch spun around, a greedy look appearing in his eyes.

"Potter? Would that be James Potter?" A smarmy grin spreading across his face. "I must say how pleased I am to meet you in person – I've read a lot about you in the _Daily Prophet_. A true hero: just what the Ministry needs." He swung an arm around James' shoulder, ignoring James' look of disgust at the overly familiar gesture. "Tell me, James, you have been on the frontlines and seen firsthand the damage the Dark Lord is doing – surely you can see the necessity of doing all we can to end this war? To fight fire with fire, so to speak?"

"I haven't really thought about it," James said, looking rather uncomfortable. "I'm just doing what I can. As to the how – whatever works, I suppose. That being said," he added, seeing Crouch open his mouth, "I think a line must be drawn. Fighting fire with fire is all well and good – it's my preferred method, actually, and if a Death Eater dies in the line of fire, I certainly won't cry any tears over it – but if we start using the Unforgivables, can we honestly say we are any better than them? There's a reason they've been outlawed, after all."

Crouch's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. "I imagine you have a point. Still, I feel in this case, the ends justify the means. Anything to end the war, don't you agree?"

"I'm afraid not," James said politely, the pureblood mask now firmly on his face. Still, even as he disagreed, a nagging voice inside told him that as much as he disliked Crouch, he did have a point. And with the possibility of Harry eventually being caught up in this war, minimizing the threat Voldemort posed by all means possible – no matter what those means were – didn't sound so bad anymore. Still, he wasn't about to say that to someone like Crouch, who would only use him to increase his own power and status. And there were other spells that were just as effective as the three Unforgivables, with less negative effects on the caster, so there really was no need to resort to them.

Crouch chuckled weakly. "Well, that's too bad. Still, you stand firm in your beliefs, misdirected as they might be, and I respect you for that. I feel with time, if this war continues to worsen, perhaps you'll change your mind. But, opposing views or not, would you terribly mind doing an interview on the behalf of this Department? A firsthand account from an Auror like you would do a lot to ease the public's mind, I'm sure."

"Actually, I'm just a trainee, still," James corrected.

"Which makes your actions even more impressive," Crouch said.

"Weren't you disparaging the abilities of the trainees just a few minutes ago?" Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow. "My, how the winds change..." Moody threw him a sharp look, clearly warning him to keep his head down around Crouch.

"And you would be?" Crouch asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Sirius Black."

"A Black, huh?" Crouch looked him up and down, his lips curling slightly. "I've heard of your family, of course. I must say, I never thought I'd see the day when a Black became an Auror."

"Well, I live to surprise people," Sirius said cheerily.

Crouch made a non-committal sound, turning on his heel and walking away. "Think about doing that interview Potter. You're quickly rising to the status of champion."

James grimaced. "So that was Crouch, huh?" He asked, once the man disappeared from view.

"In a nutshell," Moody agreed. "An opportunist, brutal, shrewd, manipulative, judgmental – a masterful politician."

"A wonderful example of humanity all around, then," Sirius quipped.

Moody barked out a laugh. "I hope that was sarcasm, Black. Now what can I do for you?"

"Actually, Sirius just decided to drag himself along," James said. "I'm the one hoping for a word."

"You may have several," Moody said. "I could use some cheering up after meeting with Mr. Sourpuss."

James let out a startled laugh. "Alright. Well, firstly, I wanted to thank you for the protections you added to our house," James said, saying 'house' rather than Godric's Hollow, in case anyone was listening.

"No problem," Moody said.

"I was actually hoping to talk to you and Don, both," James continued. "About my Auror training."

One of Moody's bushy eyebrows rose in slight surprise. "Well, as I'm sure you heard, he's dealing with paperwork at the moment. Still, I doubt he would mind being interrupted."

Moody led them both through headquarters and into Don Blake's office. "Don. Do you mind if Potter takes a moment of your time?"

Don spun around in his chair to look at his visitors, dropping his quill. "Not at all. He can have all day as far as I'm concerned. The later I have to deal with this – " he threw the large piles of parchments gathered on his desk a disgusted look, "the better. If I'd known being Head Auror entailed sitting around in my office more often than being out in the field, I would never have accepted. Are you sure I can't entice you to take over for me, Alastor?"

Moody snorted. "Not for a million galleons. There's a reason I turned the position down when it was offered to me." He smirked. "Too bad you didn't have the intelligence to do the same."

Don sighed. "There's no need to rub it in."

"If you really want out of the position, have you considered asking Scrimgeour to take over? I have no doubt he would accept – he's an idiot that way," Moody continued. "A bit of a sucker, really. Despite his age, Rufus has never learned rank doesn't mean much of anything, or give you much of anything, in the long run other than a headache. He'd jump at the chance to increase his power status by becoming Head Auror."

Don cocked his head as he thought of his third in command, after Moody, looking slightly cheered up. "That is true. He has already shown an interest in taking over should I retire, and he's a lot more politically inclined than I am. It might just work. There's no doubt he'd agree. I wouldn't even need to get him drunk first. That was my plan, up until now," he informed James and Sirius sagely, seeing their astonished looks. "Gawain Robards will agree to _anything_ while under the influence. You should see him at some of the parties the office throws – he's a right hoot." Suddenly, he deflated. "I might just have to go with Robards, after all. I'm not sure I can do without Scrimgeour right now. We need him in the field. He is second best after you, Moody, followed by our rising stars like the Longbottoms, and of course, Black and Potter, here." He nodded at James and Sirius.

"Well, whether you can spare him or not, he's a better option than _Robards,"_ Moody exclaimed, his magical eye swivelling around in its socket wildly. "Crouch would walk all over him! At least Rufus has some backbone."

"True," Don tapped his fingers against his desk in thought. "I'll have to think about this," he said, before he finally turned his full attention to James and Sirius, who had been listening to his and Moody's conversation with both amusement and some incredulity. "Now, what can I do for you Potter?"

James took a deep breath. "I would like to resign from the Academy, effective immediately."

"WHAT?" Sirius yelped, his head snapping around to glare at his best friend as he finally found out the reason James wanted to talk to Moody. "Are you insane?"

"I'm quite sure I still have all my marbles, thank you," James answered.

Moody and Don just stared. "You are being serious? You really want to resign?" Don asked, blinking.

For a moment, James wanted to make a Sirius-serious joke, but realised this wasn't the time. "Yes. I know this may come as a bit of a shock, but as was just made even more apparent to me, my status is slowly reaching iconic heights. Voldemort would love nothing more than take me down a notch. I'm already a target because of my actions against him. Normally, that wouldn't bother me, and I know Lily can take care of herself, but we have a son now. I need to think of my family's safety."

"You're afraid he might retaliate against your wife and child due to your actions," Don summarised. "Well, I can see why this is worrying to you, James, but I don't see why you would need to do something as drastic as resign. There are steps we can take to protect your family – "

" – I'm sorry, but that's not good enough," James interrupted grimly. "I appreciate what you're saying, sir, but the Ministry's resources are stretched thin as it is. Even if they weren't and all effort was to be centred on Lily and Harry, it still wouldn't satisfy me. Nothing less than my own presence beside them to personally keep them both safe would, and the risk of us being found is a lot greater if I run around in the Ministry and keep to a predictable schedule."

"...Being found?" Don repeated. "You're going into hiding?"

"Yes, sir."

"It sounds like you expect to be attacked at any moment," Don said incredulously, a conclusion Sirius' had already come to. "It is true your actions against You-Know-Who has made you and your family a target, but you're not the only one who has done so. What makes you think he will go out of his way to get to your family? If you increase the protection around your home, and we assign some guards, surely that would deter him? Of course, it wouldn't stop him from attacking you on the battlefield, but it should at least make him reluctant to attack you in your own house."

James let out a humourless laugh. "I'm afraid you're wrong about that. For security reasons, I can't tell you why, but Voldemort _will _come after us without hesitation. Some guards wouldn't stop him, only make him more determined."

Don sank back into his chair. "I'm not sure what to say."

Moody, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke: "Nothing to say but accept Potter's decision. His mind has been made up – I can tell. And if he hasn't even confided in Black here - " he jerked his thumb in Sirius' direction, "about what's going on, the likelihood of you or me getting it out of him are non-existent. Though I admit I'm damned curious. If Potter is stepping out of the fight and taking his entire family into hiding – and Potters aren't known for backing down at the face of danger – I suspect we might be better off _not_ knowing."

Don sighed. "Very well, I accept your resignation. With great reluctance, but I accept it."

James nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Don snorted. "Don't thank me. No one else will – in fact, I'd be surprised if I'm not bombarded with hexes once this gets out. The Aurors are losing a great man, Potter, and the public a hero, as much as you deny being one. They'll be after blood."

A small smirk appeared on James' face. "I might be going into hiding and resigning from the Aurors – but that doesn't mean I won't be out there fighting if I get the chance."

Moody and Don laughed. "Well, that means the public can keep their hero, but I'm afraid it won't stop them from being after Blake's blood," Moody said, clapping Don on the shoulder. "Believe me, once the _Daily Prophet_ gets hold of this story, they'll have your resignation seen as you publicly breaking ties with the Ministry due to _'insurmountable disagreement with the Aurors'_, or something along those lines."

"Sorry," James chuckled.

Don stood up, shaking James' hand. "Well, I'm sorry to lose you. You're one of our best trainees, and I can already tell you would have become a darn fine Auror. Perhaps you would have even had my desk one day."

"With all the paperwork you seem to have to deal with?" James asked with a slight grin. "If I'd ever gotten the opportunity, I might have turned it down."

Don laughed. "I wouldn't have blamed you."

"A word with you, Don," Moody abruptly said, and without a word to Sirius and James, he cast a spell which made it impossible for them hear what he and Blake were discussing. After awhile, Don nodded, opened a drawer in his desk, pulled out a parchment and filled it out and signed it, an action repeated by Moody, before he made a copy of the parchment and lifted the spell.

"Here you go, Potter," Moody said, handing a confused James the copy of the parchment.

Confused, James accepted it. As he read what it said, his head jerked up in shock. "You're giving me an Auror certificate?" He exclaimed, and Sirius drew in a sharp breath of surprise. "But I haven't finished my training!"

Moody chuckled. "Don't make me laugh. It might be one year too early, but you already know most of the things the other recruits in your year-group still have to learn, not to mention you've seen more action than most Aurors do in a lifetime. With things the way they are...you've earned to be an exception. You deserve this, Potter, have no doubt."

"I don't know what to say," James said, overwhelmed with gratitude. Though he was fully committed to his resignation, it had stung a bit, knowing he wouldn't be able to become an Auror anymore. But with this diploma, though it was gained during an irregular situation and not the normal graduation from the Academy, at least it meant he _had _graduated, in a way. It gave him hope that perhaps, when the war was over, he could take up the Auror mantle for real. "Thank you. So much. I mean...I can't even - "

"You're welcome, Potter," Moody said gruffly, clearly uncomfortable at the praise, even as Don grinned at him. "Don't mention it. Really."

* * *

**23 October**

Buffy watched anxiously as Remus transformed into Moony, wondering if the change felt any different – it didn't look like it did: Remus' face was scrunched up in an expression of pain, though at least he didn't cry out. She didn't get a chance to ask, as during the next section, a fully grown werewolf took Remus' place. Amber eyes stared into hers, and Buffy waited for the recognition to set in. It didn't take long.

"Hi Moony," Buffy greeted with a slight laugh as the werewolf nearly bowled her over in enthusiasm. Sometimes it was difficult to remember how dangerous he was to everyone else, considering how well Moony behaved in her presence. "Is your human host present inside that mind of yours?" She asked, and Moony seemed to glare at her. "I thought not," she added with a sigh. "Your dislike for one another is completely mutual. Hopefully, the stuff Oz sent is helping with that."

Ever since their return from her universe, Remus had buried himself in meditation, as recommended by Oz, as well as using the other herbs and things he'd sent. Hopefully, it was helping, though privately Buffy thought the most important step to controlling his change - accepting the wolf and letting it in – was a step Remus was far from achieving, if he ever would. Being a werewolf for most of his life and dealing with all the hate and prejudice that came with it – well, despising the wolf was second nature to Remus by now, and it was difficult to change something that was so deeply ingrained.

Moony seemed to snort. "You don't agree with that, huh?" Buffy asked. "Or don't you want it to help?" the wolf snarled, and Buffy sighed. "I thought not. Really, you and Remus are like bickering siblings. The sooner you get over the fact you have to share the same space as equals, the better."

Moony seemed to huff and turned away from Buffy's stroking fingers, moving away from her and lying down in a corner, his ears lying flat against his head. Clearly, he wasn't at all happy with the turn the conversation was taking. Buffy rolled her eyes. "Sometimes, you and Remus act so alike I can't even begin to comprehend how you two can't get the fact that you're one and the same."

Moony only closed his eyes in response, his tail thumping against the floor in annoyance. "Alright," Buffy muttered. "I get the picture. You want me to shut up. I was only hoping that since talking to Remus is like talking to a brick wall, I might have better luck with this version of him, but apparently not."

* * *

**31 October**

"Any results yet?" Voldemort asked his followers impatiently. With all his plans regarding Summers, the Longbottoms, the Potters and, of course, the Book, he hadn't had time to put any focus on inspiring the proper terror in the Wizarding World in awhile. His followers were getting restless at the lack of attacks, and he himself, was becoming rather anxious to do something. He hadn't been the main headline in the _Daily Prophet_ for weeks now, and that just wouldn't do. And what better day to reintroduce his might than during Halloween?

Of course, this attack would also serve as bait to draw Summers out in order to capture her – there was no way she would resist the chance to get to slay something so clearly monstrous in origin.

"No, my Lord. The wards are still holding strong," Rosier Senior reported, some sweat appearing on his forehead as he, alongside Nott Senior and four other Death Eaters, worked at breaking down the wards on the Isle of Drear – home of the Quintapeds.

"Well, hurry it up. I don't have all day, and Bella is getting impatient," the Dark Lord snapped, looking down at Bellatrix who was swaying back and forth, an eager grin on her face. Unfortunately, since she was standing in a boat, her actions were causing it rock back and forth. Rabastan and Rodolphus didn't seem affected, but Pettigrew was looking whiter and more frightened by the second. The Dark Lord nearly rolled his eyes, glad he was on a broom with most of his followers. The only reason they had to take a boat at all was to transport the shrunken boxes they had brought.

"Yes, my Lord," Rosier said.

"H-how did you even find this place, my Lord?" Pettigrew asked, gripping both sides of the dinghy with his hands in an effort to keep it still. "The Isle is supposed to be Unplottable."

"Even the location of something Unplottable is always on record, if it's done by the Ministry. It wasn't that hard to find it. The spells around the area to keep people away stood no chance against my willpower, or magical ability, once I knew where it was," the Dark Lord said arrogantly. "Besides that, the area is practically oozing with magic. Only an idiot would miss it."

Peter wisely kept silent, not wanting to admit he hadn't felt anything and thereby label himself as an idiot.

Suddenly, there was a crackle in the air, and Voldemort straightened as the island finally came into view. "At last." He flew through, quickly followed by the rest of his Death Eaters. The Lestranges and Pettigrew scrambled out of the boat, fastening it to a tree. "Unload the boxes and unshrink them," Voldemort ordered. "Hurry now. I have no doubt the Quintapeds will be here any second. They can smell human flesh, you see," he added with a smirk, almost laughing at the hurried action among his followers this caused. Nearly nothing worked as well the threat of death to get his underlings going. That the death in this case would probably come due to being eaten alive by carnivorous creatures only seemed to make them even more motivated.

"They're here!" Nott exclaimed, his eyes darting around wildly. "They're surrounding us..." He gulped.

"There are a lot of them, my Lord," Travers noted as he looked around himself, wand outstretched.

"Excellent," Voldemort smiled.

"Here they come!" Rabastan shouted, tensing as the low-slung, reddish-brown creatures approached, their five clubfooted legs moving quickly, their jaws open, revealing sharp teeth.

Voldemort raised his wand, and, just before one of the creatures jumped up, aiming for Pettigrew's throat and causing him to squeal in fright, a dome of light appeared around each of the Quintapeds. The creatures stopped in their tracks, and the one attacking Wormtail dropped to the ground. "I suggest you capture them quickly. They're quite resistant to magic – there's a reason no one has been able to catch them before - they'll break through even my spell before long."

He smiled in satisfaction as his followers got to work. "Happy Halloween, Buffy Summers," he whispered to himself. "Won't this be a nice surprise?"

* * *

"Ah, Dorcas. Happy Halloween," Dumbledore smiled at his spy happily. "Are you enjoying the festivities? Lemon drop?"

"No," Dorcas told the Headmaster sharply. "You must alert the Order immediately, Dumbledore," she said. "I just heard rumours among some of the Death Eaters... The Dark Lord is planning on releasing a large amount of Quintapeds. With all the people out today..."

Dumbledore's smile quickly slid of his face. "Quintapeds? Are you certain?" He sounded aghast.

"Yes," Dorcas said impatiently. "From what I understand, they're at the Isle of Drear right now, capturing them."

"What is Tom thinking?" Dumbledore shook his head. "I will of course get the Order together. Do you know where Voldemort will release them?"

"Unfortunately not," Dorcas said grimly. "But I imagine it will be in some highly populated area, like Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade. And with everyone out celebrating Halloween, both places are bound to be packed with people." Dumbledore was nodding. "Headmaster..." Dorcas continued, her expression grim, "fighting these creatures...it's going to be a slaughter. They're highly resistant to magic, and fast. There are very few spells that will affect them."

"We will have to meet them with lethal force," Dumbledore answered as he moved towards the floo. "High-powered cutting spells, for example. And I imagine Buffy will be kept very busy tonight. Oh, and Dorcas?"

"Yes?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Good job in finding this out. I imagine things will get easier for you from now in, in any case."

Dorcas frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Severus Snape has agreed to switch sides." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "We now have two spies."

Dorcas stared at the Headmaster. Hope rose up in her chest – but just as quickly it was followed by disbelief. "Severus...? Dumbledore, are you sure this isn't a trap of some sort?"

"Very," Dumbledore told her. "Dorcas, this is _good_ news for our side. Severus has a higher Death Eater status than you – we can get information that wouldn't have been possible before."

"I don't want to doubt you," Dorcas said cautiously. "But...what makes you so certain about him?"

"That, you will have to ask Severus," Dumbledore answered calmly, before turning back to the floo. "_Alastor Moody!"_

"I will," Dorcas said with a frown, sighing as she left the office, her stomach curling. If Severus truly had switched sides – and she highly doubted it – it had something to do with Lily Potter.

* * *

"What are these creatures called again?" Buffy yelled out over the screams and sounds of battle, her katana swinging and removing the legs of one of the hairy spider-like creatures.

"Quintapeds!" Remus shouted, aiming a cutting curse at a pile of them as they were devouring the arm of a screaming woman. He grimaced. The little buggers were small, alert, strong and vicious, and unfortunately, their fur just seemed to absorb or deflect most spells like they were nothing. On top of that, they were quick – unless you were lucky, or one came straight at you, the only chance to actually hit them was when they were still – usually while they were busy tearing into some hapless victim.

"I think I prefer vampires!" Buffy called out, her katana impaling two Quintapeds at once. "At least they only try to suck your blood!"

"I think I agree," Remus said, his wand a flurry of motion. For once, he actually felt quite glad that he was a werewolf – on top of the reflexes the lycanthropy gave him, the hairy creatures seemed hesitant to attack him: perhaps they could sense the predator inside. Unfortunately, they had no difficulty attacking everything else that moved.

"You know, I'm going to be really hungry and horny after all this," Buffy said as she passed by Remus with a wink, and he grinned, blushing slightly. The next second, Buffy's sword cleaved another Quintaped in a half and blood sprayed up, landing on her face. She shuddered. "On second thought, perhaps not hungry."

* * *

When James got the floo-call from Dumbledore about the Quintaped-attack, he and Lily had stared at each other for several seconds, silently arguing over who should go and who should stay with Harry. Finally, Lily had raised an eyebrow and suggested they decided by way of _Rock-Paper-Scissors._ Needless to say, she had been quite annoyed when James' won.

Immediately finding Sirius upon his arrival, the two friends now stood back to back, flinging cutting spells and other lethal curses at the man-eating creatures. Members from the rest of the Order and the Auror department surrounded them from all sides, some who had been surprised to see him.

After his resignation, James had for the first time had to deal with a fair bit of negative press once it got out, the _Daily Prophet_ calling him cowardly among other, not so flattering words. Needless to say, they weren't happy with his sudden decision, especially as they had gotten no explanation for it, and the speculations were still running wild.

James grimaced slightly, having the feeling that if his aid during this attack got out – which it doubtlessly would – the speculations would increase, though he would probably be back to being a hero. "Frigging sheep," he muttered while sending out a long stream of fire at the fast Quintapeds, which managed to incinerate a few of them.

"Sheep?" Sirius asked with a laugh. "You're calling these monsters_ sheep?_ I know you're not wearing your glasses, James, but open your eyes."

James rolled his eyes. "Just lost in my own thoughts," he answered, earning himself some incredulous looks from the surrounding fighters. "What?" He asked, while firing a bludgeoning curse at two of the Quintapeds. "Just because I'm male doesn't mean I can't multitask!"

Sirius barked out a laugh. "I'm sure they're happy you're taking this fight so seriously."

James smirked. "And how many of these creatures have you killed, Padfoot?"

"That would be number eight, I believe," Sirius said, somewhat smugly, as one of his spells destroyed one of the Quintapeds. "You?"

"Ten," James said, even more smugly, to Sirius' clear annoyance. "Make that eleven," he added a second later.

"I can't believe you're keeping count!" Caradoc exclaimed from nearby.

"Of course they are," Frank told him with a snort. "They probably have a bet going."

James and Sirius exchanged grins. "You know us so well, Frank."

"Ooh, can I join in?" Buffy asked, as she and Remus approached them.

"No!" James and Sirius chorused, and Buffy pouted.

"What's your count, Buffy?" Alice asked, genuinely curious.

Buffy shrugged, cleaving two of the Quintapeds in half at the same time, kicking the remains aside with the tips of her practical, yet stylish, boots. "I stopped counting around twenty-five," she said airily, earning herself groans from the nearby bystanders.

"Well, can I join the bet?" Remus asked James, who nodded after a second or two.

Sirius looked relieved, his eyes glinting. "Fine. Loser does a striptease at the next Order meeting. What's your count?"

"Sixteen," Remus said sweetly, a wicked smile on his face.

Sirius shoulders' slumped. "Darn it."

"Better get a move on, unless you want to lose," James said with a smirk, which slipped of his face a second later. "DON, LOOK OUT!" He screamed at his former boss, who had not seen the three Quintapeds sneaking up at him from behind it. Don spun around, and Buffy sent a knife she had been concealing in a sheath on her pants flying. It buried itself to the hilt in one of the Quintaped's brainstem, while Moody got the second and Don himself took care of the third. Don threw James an appreciative nod for the timely warning.

In the confusion of the battle, however, the fighters had missed the Death Eaters who had clambered onto the rooftops to watch, and to create even more chaos. One of them, Avery Junior, now took careful aim, after the instructions given by the Dark Lord: _"Targets are Summers – that's the blonde sword-wielding slut; Potter, of course; both the Longbottoms if you can manage; Moody and the head of the Aurors. Aim to kill, except in the case of Summers. Any other Aurors or suspected Order-members you manage to kill are of course, a nice bonus."_

The Death Eaters had then divided the various targets amongst themselves, and Avery was now aiming for his, a stunning spell on his lips. "I've got you now, bitch..." he whispered to himself.

* * *

Now in the centre of Diagon Alley's main square, Remus found his - and Buffy's – movements somewhat restricted amongst the large crowd which had formed a tight-packed, defensive circle against the slowly declining amount of Quintapeds. While this was an excellent strategy against the creatures, unfortunately he also realised that it made them a large sitting target against other potential enemies – Death Eaters, for example, who had to be there somewhere.

As such, while fighting and watching Buffy's back, he kept all his senses alert. Therefore, he immediately noticed the bold of red light aimed at Buffy from above. "BUFFY!" He yelled, throwing himself forward, and he and Buffy both tumbled to the ground, the spell missing them both by barely an inch.

A second later, the ground moved.

Alice screamed when a powerful spell sent from above made the ground rumble and erupt beneath them, sending all the fighters flying, as dust, dirt, brick and stone rained down upon them. Pandemonium ensued once the earth stilled, and with lights flickering before her eyes, slowly she got to her feet, looking around at the injured people who were slowly stirring.

"THEY ARE ON THE ROOFS!" Don shouted out, those being his last words before a killing curse, perfectly aimed by Wilkes, hit him in the chest, just as he had managed to clamber back to his feet.

"TAKE COVER! AIM HIGH!" Moody bellowed at the Aurors, barely avoiding another green light. Now, the fighters from the light side found themselves attacked from two sides: the Quintapeds on the ground, and Voldemort's followers above. Luckily, the earthquake spell, sent by a cackling Bellatrix Lestrange, had also buried a lot of the Quintapeds in the rubble, so there were only a few strays left to take care of.

There were, however, a lot of injuries as well, among them Buffy, who was doubly buried below Remus - who was lying unconscious on top of her body after he'd thrown himself to protect her - and a large stone block.

Dazed, she slowly managed to free her hands, slowly pushing the large block to the side, unaware of the disillusioned Death Eater who was making his way towards her, intent on her capture. "Remus, wake up." He didn't stir, but with relief, she noted he was breathing and slowly and carefully pushed him off of her.

As she got to her knees, she realised something was wrong. She could hear the sounds of battle still going on around her, as well as her own and Remus' breathing, the wind...and something was moving to her left. There was, however, nothing there. At least, nothing visible. Gripping her katana, she waited, counting silently in her head, before she struck, feeling the tip of her weapon meet flesh and fabric.

Avery howled in pain, losing control of his disillusionment spell and dropping his wand as the weapon met his chest, leaving a long, bloody line behind. Stumbling backwards, in fury, he threw himself forward, only to be met by an elbow to the nose. The next second, he lost his balance as something – no, some_one_ – gripped his ankle, and sent him tumbling to the ground, were he lost consciousness.

"Re!" Buffy gasped in relief, as her boyfriend let go of the Death Eater's leg and looked up at her blearily.

"Is the battle over?"

"Not yet. Are you up for helping?"

"I feel hung-over," Remus muttered, clutching a bleeding temple as he slowly sat up, Buffy letting out a slight laugh. "But I think so."

Slowly, they made their way over to a bloodied James and Sirius, who were involved in a battle of spells with three Death Eaters crouched in an alley. Once the Aurors had began to aim for the rooftops, they had climbed down, intent to get away. Of course, they had lost the tactical advantage of having the high-ground in the process, something they hadn't thought of, and now, several of Voldemort's followers were trapped in similar positions throughout the alley.

"Losses?" Buffy asked.

"Don Blake is dead," James reported grimly. "Along with ten more Aurors, and Caradoc and Frank have been knocked out. I think they'll be fine, though. Of course, that's not counting all the civilians who were here to celebrate Halloween."

Buffy nodded grimly, dropping her katana in favour for her wand as she crouched beside him, then she heard three words that made her freeze for a second: "WHERE IS SUMMERS?" The familiar voice of Bellatrix could be heard snarling, as someone – presumably her husband – tried to tell her to keep her voice down. "No, I'm not leaving! The Dark Lord wants her alive!"

She exchanged nervous looks with the three marauders. "Why are they after me?" She hissed.

"Well, you are highly attractive," Sirius mused, earning himself double smacks on the head from Remus and Buffy. "Ouch. They must know you're the Slayer by now, and that raid on the library awhile ago only confirms that they are interested in you."

"Yes, but _alive?" _Buffy asked. "Wouldn't it make more sense to want me dead?"

James let an eyebrow rise. "Would that be preferable to you?"

"Of course not," Buffy scowled. "But it makes more sense, doesn't it? I want to know what they're up to..."

The battle was winding to a close, the Aurors advancing on the now cowering Death Eaters, while several of them were trying to make their escape, among them Wilkes, who had murdered Don Blake. Several of the Aurors had gotten quite a good look at him, however, and were following the group he was in, intent to capture him. Sirius scrambled to his feet, joining his fellow Aurors, while James and Remus tied up the Death Eaters in the alley, Buffy keeping a wary eye on their surroundings. Where was Bellatrix? Was she still around, or had she left with the other Death Eaters?

"Bella, come on!" Buffy heard someone shout in the distance, and she, James and Remus turned around, just to see Rodolphus Lestrange manhandling Bellatrix as he tried to get her under control, something that was made even more difficult when the witch caught sight of Buffy. "Summers is right there! _Right there!"_ They heard her yell while kicking and biting her husband. "I can take her! 'Dolphie, let me g-!" Her voice abruptly cut of as Rodolphus forcibly apparated away with his wife, followed by his brother a second later, after he had thrown Buffy an unreadable look.

"I'M NOT GOING TO AZKABAN!" They heard another shout, and their heads swivelled around again, this time in the other direction, where a crazed Wilkes throwing killing curses around in a wild attempts to escape the Aurors who were trying to capture him. Most of the other Death Eaters in the group he had been in seemed to have surrendered, except for the few who had managed to get away from the vengeful Aurors. Two seconds later, Wilkes got his wish when a blue spell followed by an orange impacted with his upper-body, blowing out his ribcage and causing the flesh there to melt, leaving a smoking hole where his chest should be, killing him.

It was impossible for them to tell who was responsible, but James was fairly certain not one of the Aurors would mourn him, since he was responsible for their commander's death. In fact, if he were to make a guess, he was fairly certain those spells had been chosen just because of their lethality, in hopes of killing the Death Eater. As he watched, he saw Moody's magical eye swivel around to look at him, causing James to be even more certain that his guess was correct, especially as he saw the tip of Moody's wand smoking, making him the most likely perpetrator. Moody never did anything by accident.

Sirius slowly came back to rejoin them, limping slightly. "Bellatrix got away, as did most of the other high-level Death Eaters," he reported.

Buffy nodded, with a sigh. "Yes, we saw. Bellatrix seemed very determined to get to me, though. I should get used to being a target," she muttered, pulling a bloody hand through her blonde hair. "Anyway, I got a Death Eater with my katana earlier. Someone should probably check he's still alive."

Remus nodded, clasping her shoulder as he got to his feet. A minute later, he returned. "There was nothing there, except a small pool of blood. I think he got away."

Buffy sighed in annoyance. "Well, we better help with the wounded." In the distance, they could see Alice slowly helping Frank to his feet, the back of his head dripping with blood.

"I suppose that means you're volunteering for Caradoc-duty?" Sirius asked dryly. "Since he's a grouch normally, he's probably even worse injured."

Buffy stuck out her tongue. "Haha. Anyway, don't you three have a bet to settle? What's your final Queenpees tally?"

"It's Quintapeds," Remus corrected, as James and Sirius snorted. "I think I got twenty-one, but then again, I'm fairly sure I have a concussion, so I might be confused."

James snorted. "Well, I got fifteen. You, Padfoot?"

Sirius pouted. "I'm not saying," he muttered, aware he had lost, even though he had gotten thirteen.

Buffy laughed. "So I take it the Order can look forward to a Black striptease during the next meeting, then? Your birthday is in two days, isn't it? How about then? There is a planned Order meeting for that day, isn't it?"

Sirius sighed in resignation. "No need to rub it in."

* * *

_**Published:** 10/05 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- In regards to James' resigning from the Auror Academy: J.K. Rowling has said that James inherited plenty of money, so he didn't need a well-paid profession, which is what I based my quote: "it's not like we need the money at all," and the decision that he's going to focus on the Potter asset and duties as Head of the family, on.  
- Aurora Lovegood is of course, expecting Luna, whose birth date is sometime in 1981, and the Xeno mentioned is obviously Xenophilius, her father and Aurora's husband.  
- The locked room "contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature," as told by Dumbledore in canon. It is the most mysterious subject of study within the Department of Mysteries.  
- Crouch was Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement during the first war and many people believed he would be the next Minister of Magic. He was famous for his aggressive prosecution of Dark Wizards. During the war, he authorized the Aurors to use the Unforgivable Curses.  
- By the time Scrimgeour replaces Fudge as Minister in canon (HBP), he is Head Auror, which is why I have Moody and Don discuss him as a possible candidate for the position, while also hinting at higher political aspirations. Since Gawain Robards become Head Auror in canon after Scrimgeour becomes Minister, I made him their second choice.  
- Halloween is, according to various beliefs and religions, the time of year when the physical and supernatural worlds are closest. Death and the dead are associated with it. The veil between the worlds is at its thinnest and magic is at its height. Ergo, Voldemort's favourite holiday.  
- According to _Fantastic Beasts and Where to find Them_, Quintapeds can only be found on the Isle of Drear off the north tip of Scotland, which has been made Unplottable to protect the unwary: Quintapeds are also known as the Hairy MacBoon and are among the most dangerous of magical beasts, with a particular taste for humans. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures have tried and failed to capture even one.  
- Buffy's quote about being hungry and horny after the fight: In _BTVS 3x3: Faith, Hope & Trick, _Faith mentions how slaying always makes her hungry and horny.  
- _Rock-Paper-Scissors _is a hand game played by two people often used as a choosing method.  
- "Just because I'm a male doesn't mean I can't multitask!" – From the well-known saying/opinion that men can't do two things at once...  
- Rodolphus = Dolphie: I can easily see Bella give her husband a sickeningly sweet nickname that really don't fit him at all.  
- Wilkes is a Death Eater that, circa 1980, was killed by Aurors while resisting arrest, as we learn during _HP & the Goblet of Fire._


	16. Mythtaken

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

"Bloody hell, woman, be more careful!" Caradoc snapped at Buffy as she took hold of his jaw in order to get a better look at his head wound.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "If you stopped squirming like a three year old, I wouldn't have to grab hold of you," she exclaimed, ignoring his spluttering. "Turn your head towards the light – I want to get a look at your pupils. Or would you prefer another field Healer take a look at you?" Caradoc grimaced, but nonetheless held still. "I'll take your acquiescence as a no," Buffy said smugly.

After bandaging up Caradoc's head, she went over to a woman with a leg that had been chewed apart by a Quintaped – or several. All in all, it looked like she'd been pushing it through a meat grinder. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to save that leg", Buffy said, biting her lip, after she'd looked it over for a while and run several diagnostic charms over it.

"No, you think?" The woman snapped angrily, her face pale and her Halloween make-up (that of a Zombie – and wasn't that ironic?) smudged. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"St. Mungo's has a lot of really good prosthetics nowadays, though!" Buffy said, ignoring the woman's understandably snappish tone. "You won't even know the difference!"

"Yeah? Do _you _have a prosthetic leg?" The woman asked sarcastically with a biting tone.

"No. But if I did, I'd totally go for a wooden one," Buffy said, her tone of voice overly bright. "That way, I could always go as a pirate to costume parties!"

"If I'd stayed at home from the one tonight, I wouldn't be in this position to begin with", the woman muttered. "So what're you going to do with my leg? Cut off what's left of it?"

"Umm..." Buffy winced. "No. You'll need to go for St. Mungo's for that. Are you injured anywhere else? What's your name, by the way?"

"Rachel," the woman muttered. "And no. Just scratches."

"Alright then." Buffy pulled up a rubber bracelet from her coat pocket and pushed it onto Rachel's wrist. "That's an emergency portkey that will take you directly to St. Mungo's where someone will help you. _Medical, point 2," _she then said, and Rachel disappeared.

"Point 2?" Sirius asked curiously, approaching from behind.

"Yeah. Umm... the medical portkeys are sort of specialised," Buffy explained. "A point 2 injury is considered very serious, but not _immediately _life-threatening. A point 1 patient is in need of immediate medical attention or he – or she – will die. A point 0 is pretty much a corpse. We have points up to 5 – any higher than that, and the emergency portkey isn't necessary."

"Where did you get the portkeys from anyway?"

"Almost everyone who works at the hospital in a Healer capacity gets a few." Buffy said. "I think it's something they began handing out once the war began. I've only used them as hair ribbons until now." Sirius snorted. "Do you have any injuries I need to treat?"

"Well, almost everyone I meet tells me I'm sick in the head, but I don't think it's treatable," Sirius said cheekily, ignoring the wound he had on his shoulder, not considering it bad enough to need treatment.

Buffy laughed tiredly. "Where did James go, by the way? Did he take off already?"

"Yeah. He promised to get home to Lily as soon as the battle was over, unless he needed to go to the hospital."

Buffy frowned. "But I could swear he had a head wound..."

"Oh, he did," Sirius said. "But no offense to you, Buff, but with _Lily's_healing touch being an alternative... You know, she can kiss it better whereas you would have to use your wand - I'm sure you can guess what James would find preferable." Buffy giggled. "But speaking of head wounds," Sirius continued, "here comes someone who looks a bit groggy."

Buffy turned around. "Remus! There you are... your head is bleeding even worse."

Remus shook his head. "I'm alright."

"Yeah? You're looking a bit cross-eyed there, Moony," Sirius said.

"I just need to rest," Remus dismissed. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Buffy looked around at the carnage in the alley: bodies - dead and heavily injured - were everywhere. The truth was, she did need help, but she also realised Remus was in no shape to be of any assistance. It barely looked like he was capable of holding himself upright. "Go home," she said. "You clearly have a concussion, so you'll be of best use to me if you're out of the way. I'll be here awhile, and then I'll probably be called into St. Mungo's. With so many injured tonight, most of the staff will be working overtime."

Remus nodded resignedly. "Alright."

"Just don't fall asleep," Buffy reminded him. "Call Peter over. He can make sure you stay awake."

"Where was Peter anyway?" Sirius frowned. "Wasn't the entire Order called in for the battle?"

"I think so," Buffy said. "I didn't see him. But it's probably better that he didn't come."

Remus frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, Moony," Sirius drawled. "I know you're concussed, but you can't possibly be that slow! I mean, can you honestly see him surviving a battle like this? He would have peed his pants in fright, and then the Quintapeds would have eaten him alive."

"Though I could have put it nicer, I kind of agree with Sirius," Buffy said. "All credit to Peter – he is a loyal friend, a Gryffindor, and a member of the Order – but can you honestly see him go up against...let's say that – " she pointed at the corpse of a gigantic Quintaped – "and not panic?"

"You have a point," Remus admitted.

Unknown to the trio, a small brown rat with beady eyes was hiding underneath the corpse of the Quintaped in question and eavesdropping on their conversation, its whiskers twitching in annoyance.

* * *

**2 November**

BANG!

The door to Severus' home flew open and Dorcas strode in, her dark red hair put up in a ponytail. Slowly, Severus lowered his copy of the _Daily Prophet _(which was once again praising the heroics of James Potter during the Quintaped attack – typical, disgusting, and yet another thing for the man to gloat about) and threw her an irritated glare.

"What did I tell you about coming here without an invitation?" He hissed.

Dorcas ignored him. "What are you playing at?" She demanded to know, hands on her hips.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Severus said.

"On the day the Quintapeds and the Dark Lord's followers attacked Diagon Alley, Dumbledore told me you had switched sides and are now also going to spy for him," Dorcas informed him with narrowed eyes. "I don't believe it."

"Then don't," Severus said calmly, pretending to return to the newspaper.

Dorcas clenched her fists in annoyance. "I want to know what you are playing at," she repeated heatedly.

"Who says I'm playing?" Severus said, putting down his newspaper again and clasping his hands together, a blank expression on his face. "The Headmaster was telling the truth." An infuriating smirk appeared on his face. "We should work together now, don't you think?"

"Why should I trust you?" Dorcas hissed.

Severus cocked an eyebrow. "You trusted me not to turn you in to the Dark Lord, for one. And now, with us both being on the same side, you no longer have to worry about that. Overly much," he added after a slight pause, his smirk growing wider.

"I have no idea why you're doing this, only that you wouldn't unless something was in it for you," Dorcas hissed. "But I'm not going to trust you _at all _unless you tell me what you're getting out of this. Why did you suddenly decide to switch sides?"

"It's out of the pure goodness of my heart, of course," Severus answered mockingly. "Do I need another reason? Spending time with you for the past few months has simply made me a better person."

"You're a right bastard," Dorcas spat, as Severus began to laugh.

"But you already knew that, of course. Now, I obviously can't attend your little Order meetings, but Dumbledore informed me that from now on, your responsibility is to tell me what is going on during them. You had one today, did you not?"

"Don't change the subject!" Dorcas exclaimed. "I want to know _why."_

Severus' eyes grew cold. "My reasons are my own," he said. "And you probably shouldn't trust me – entirely. Like you so eloquently pointed out, I am first and foremost self-serving."

Dorcas' eyes narrowed. "It's because of Lily, isn't it?" She asked, taking a wild guess. Severus' expression once again became a blank slate, and she knew she was right. "The Potters have gone into hiding - there must be a reason for that."

Something flickered in Severus' black eyes for a moment, before that too was gone. "Believe what you want. Now, what happened during your little meeting?"

"We talked about the battle in Diagon Alley," Dorcas finally told him, rather reluctantly. "How come you didn't tell Dumbledore about that? You must have known about it, probably before me?"

Severus smirked. "Well, _you _told him, so my involvement was unnecessary. And I did not know until the attack was already well underway, when the Dark Lord informed those of us who were not involved in it. I am actually impressed you managed to figure it out when you were not one of the participants."

Despite herself, Dorcas couldn't help but feel somewhat proud. "Yes, well, I keep my eyes and ears open. That's my job." Severus inclined his head in acknowledgement. "What was the Dark Lord's reaction, when his followers came back?"

"He was...unsatisfied, overall," Severus said slowly. "He was glad of the panic the Quintapeds managed to cause, and pleased that so many died. He was very happy to hear of Blake's death. However, he was furious that none of the other targets he had pointed out were killed, and he punished Avery for not managing to capture Summers and getting injured by her in the process. By a sword, I believe?"

"Avery..." Dorcas muttered. "So that's who it was. Junior, I suppose?" Severus nodded. "Buffy was mad he got away – she thought his injury was severe enough to keep him down for awhile. And it was a katana, not a sword."

Severus snorted. "Same difference."

"I think Buffy would disagree," Dorcas said. "We also talked about the replacement for Don Blake in the Auror department. Dumbledore was trying to convince Moody to take it, but he refused, so the post of Head Auror has gone to Rufus Scrimgeour."

Severus nodded slowly. "I see. What else?"

Dorcas shrugged. "Not much. We celebrated Sirius' birthday and he gave us a striptease for losing a bet." Her eyes twinkled, even as Severus' let out a noise of revulsion. "It was much appreciated by all the females present." Severus sneered. "Speaking of Sirius," Dorcas continued, "I expect you will no longer try to kill him, since you are now on the same side?"

Severus didn't answer for a long while. "Let one thing be clear, Meadowes," he finally said. "Though we may now share the same goals, I will never be on the _same side _as Sirius Black. And if I have to kill him to keep myself alive or to protect my status as a spy, I would do it with a smile on my face. For now, however, I have given him a reprieve."

Dorcas shuddered slightly. "Alright. Is there anything you need to tell me?"

"The spy in your Order," Severus said. "I heard..._rumours_...that the Dark Lord has now introduced him to the entire inner-circle."

Dorcas' eyes widened. "You know who it is?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Were you not listening? The _inner-circle_ – I am not part of it, yet. Still, more people know of his identity than before. Someone might slip up. I am sure, if you _'use your eyes and ears,' _you may be able to suss it out," he finished dryly.

Dorcas glared.

* * *

**10 November**

"It's alright, Harry, I'll be done in a second," Sirius tried to hush his Godson as he cried, his face deep red and scrunched up from his place on the changing table. Sirius had just discarded Harry's dirty nappy and was now holding a new one, trying desperately to figure out how to put it on. Harry was not amused by his efforts, and his screams were getting louder by the minute. "Why did they think making _me_ your Godfather was a good idea, again?" He asked Harry, as he accidentally managed to rip the nappy apart, forcing him to pick up a new one. "And why aren't there any _spell s_for this?"

James and Lily were out for some much needed alone-time, tasking Sirius with baby-sitting duty. The night had started out well enough: Harry was a joy to play with, and the occasional accidental magic he displayed was a delight to watch.

Harry's favourite part had been to roll around on the floor with Padfoot, with him wagging his tail while Harry tried to grab it. Of course, Sirius' amusement had lessened somewhat by the ensuing tug-of-war when the baby succeeded. It had lessened even more when Harry decided his fur looked better red, and the colour had stayed in his hair after Sirius transformed back.

It also made it very difficult for Sirius think of his little mischievous Godson as the eventual defeater of Voldemort. In fact, the very idea had felt ludicrous when James had finally come clean about the prophecy after the Quintapeds' attack and told him the reason he and Lily gone into hiding with Harry. Sirius' reaction then had been nothing less than stunned incredulity before the news had finally sunk in – at which point he'd blown his top as he realised just what it meant and how frightening the very thought of Harry having to fight Voldemort was.

Sirius finally managed to get the nappy on Harry, only to find he'd put it on upside down and Harry's cries increased. "By Merlin's beard…" Sirius muttered, only to yelp when the lights started to flicker and then explode, leaving the house in darkness. Harry's screams became louder than ever and Sirius swore. "Was that you, Bambi?" He asked, quickly exiting the bathroom, summoning the diaper bag to follow them.

Settling Harry down on the sofa, and quickly but carefully removing the nappy once again, Sirius watched worriedly as some of the contents on the shelves began to shake and fall off, shattering as they impacted with the floor, the volume of Harry's screams increasing all the while. "Bambi, I would be very grateful if you would calm down…" He pleaded, but Harry was clearly not listening. Only a very quick reaction from Sirius kept him from being knocked out by a lamp that flew in his direction.

"We're home!" Lily's voice called out, and Sirius whimpered in relief. Harry's cries stilled as he heard his mother's voice, and the magical outbursts stopped. Exhausted, Sirius picked the naked baby up in his arms.

A smiling married couple entered the living room.

"How did it…go…" James trailed off, the smile quickly sliding of his face as he saw the destruction. "Sirius?" Lily had quickly hurried over and took Harry from Sirius, the baby now happily gurgling. "Was there an attack? By Merlin, Padfoot…"

"Your son had a bit of a temper-tantrum," Sirius said dryly as Lily and James looked around the room with wide eyes.

_"Harry _did this?" Lily asked in disbelief as she looked down at her son who only snuggled deeper against her chest, perfectly serene and content now.

"Things were going fine, until it became time to change the nappy. I don't think I managed it quickly enough for his taste," Sirius continued dryly.

"Right," James sounded dazed. "Uh…Lils…is this sort of reaction…normal?" His voice was filled with anxiety.

"I don't _think _so," Lily answered hesitantly. "I mean, nothing like this ever happened when I was a baby, or I'm fairly certain my parents would have mentioned it. You?"

Slowly, James and Sirius both shook their heads. "Some minor outbursts, for sure, but nothing like this. It looks like a small tornado hit the room!" Her husband blurted out.

"Well, Harry is certainly going to become a powerful wizard," Sirius said dryly. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go home, have a drink, shower, and sleep."

"That's fine," James said absently. "Thanks, Pads." Only then did he notice Sirius' hair. "What happened to your hair?"

Sirius scowled as his best friend snorted. "Harry, obviously. At least he didn't turn it green. He's clearly a future Gryffindor, with your taste."

James sniffed. "Yes, well, he could inherit a lot worse things than my taste."

"Like your pride," Lily nodded sagely.

"Or your bad pick-up lines and overall inability to flirt with a girl," Sirius smirked.

"Or your tendency to jump head first into danger," Lily continued.

James pouted. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

In Lily's arms, Harry blinked, his face a picture of cute confusion which expressed that he totally agreed with his father.

* * *

**22 November**

"Are you ready?" Buffy asked Remus, while she settled down on the floor in front of her boyfriend, who, as usual, was wrapped up in a blanket as he waited for the full moon to rise.

Remus gave her a wry smile. "I don't think I will ever get completely ready for this."

Buffy frowned slightly. "Do you think the stuff and advice you got from Oz is helping?"

It was Remus learn to frown. "Somewhat," he said slowly. "The meditation helps – I feel calmer and less tired than usual, but other than that, there isn't much change. The transformation is still painful, but I think I am recovering somewhat faster."

"And the acceptance part?" Buffy asked, biting her lip.

Remus eyes darkened. "Not much improvement there," he admitted honestly. "But I don't dread the change as much – though I am unsure of how much of that is due to the things from Oz and how much is due to your presence."

Buffy smiled slightly. "Well, be patient," she said, feeling slightly happier. Despite what Remus had just said, she felt that he was slowly starting to acknowledge that he and the wolf were one and the same. At least, there must have been some progress – Remus didn't fight the change quite as much as he used to: before, changing from man to wolf and back went a lot slower than it did now. As a result, the strain on his body had greatly lessened. "Rome wasn't built in a day."

"I think building Rome might be easier," Remus said dryly, and then tensed. "It's starting."

Buffy nodded, watching in concern as a werewolf took her boyfriend's place, limb by limb. The lycanthrope let out a slight sigh, putting his head on top of his paws, a slight rumble of pleasure escaping him as Buffy scratched him behind the ears. "Not in a playing mood tonight?" She asked, and the wolf rubbed his head against her chest in answer. Buffy laughed. "Snuggling it is," she agreed.

* * *

**14 December**

"I don't know about this, Buffy," Remus said cautiously, swaying slightly on his feet as Buffy skated circles around him, grinning mischievously.

"Come on. You can't tell me you've never done this before," she said.

"When I was little," Remus admitted, nearly stumbling as he found himself dragged along as Buffy skated backwards after having grabbed on to his scarf. "And watch out so you don't strangle me with that."

"Oh, then you'll do just fine," Buffy said letting go of the scarf and doing a short pirouette. "It's like riding a bike. Besides," her eyes twinkled, "aren't werewolves supposed to have superior balance and such things?"

Remus let out a playful growl. "That's on the ground. On ice…" He shrugged.

"Well, I'll make you a deal. If you can catch me, I'll give you a reward," Buffy said, and then took off across the ice-rink, speeding up. Remus hesitated slightly, faltering as he struggled to find his centre of balance. "Are you a Gryffindor or not?" Buffy sing-songed, and that did it. Pursing his lips in determination, Remus took off after her. He wasn't as fast as Buffy, but at least he managed not to fall on his arse, and Remus took that as a sign of improvement.

Finally, he managed to intercept Buffy by making sure he stood in her way before she could slow down or change direction, and she giggled as he caught her in his arms. "I'm glad we decided to do this," she said. "Just having fun for a day, without having to worry about the war. I mean, it's not like anyone's going to come looking for us in a muggle ice-rink."

Remus was about to nod in agreement, only to notice a shadow moving in the bleachers. "I think you just jinxed us," he whispered, so low only Buffy's Slayer hearing would pick it up. "There's someone watching us."

"Are you sure it's not just Peter?" Buffy asked. "He said he might join us, if he managed to rope some of the Order members into it as well. Oof!" Remus gave her a slight push and she flew back a couple of steps on her skates, a red stunning spell passing between them both harmlessly. "I'll take that as a no," Buffy sighed, turning her attention to the stands, her sharp eyes noticing every movement. "I count…one…two…three Death Eaters," she said, sure that Remus' own sensitive hearing would pick it up. Remus nodded cautiously. "Poo-ey. I was looking forward to a day without any fighting."

"They're coming down," Remus muttered under his breath, barely avoiding the green killing curse that flew at him, unfortunately causing him to lose his balance. Skating towards him, Buffy helped him up with her left hand while she pulled out her wand in her right, conjuring a shield around them. A second later, several spells impacted on it. "I can't hold that for long, Re," she warned. "The ice is not really my battle ground of choice..."

The Death Eaters were now crouching behind the railing, spells from their wands flying fast and furious. Luckily, none of them were green. "If I keep up a shield around us, do you think we can reach the railing?" Remus asked. "I think I prefer a battle up close rather than sitting ducks out here. It's rather slippery," he added dryly.

"Agreed," Buffy said with a slight chuckle. "And since they seem insistent on killing you and keeping me alive, you should stay behind me."

Remus seemed less than happy about that suggestion, but gave Buffy a reluctant nod. Grabbing onto Remus right hand, Buffy dropped the shield while Remus raised one of his own, dragging him along with her as she skated forwards at a furious pace. The Death Eater let out shouts of surprise and scrambled to get to their feet. It was, however, too late as Buffy reached the railing and grabbed a nearby net, using it to swing up and slitting one of the Death Eater's throats with the blade of one of her skates.

Behind her, Remus had quickly stunned the second, and Buffy got the third as she dropped the net and grabbed his head, slamming it against the railing and causing him to lose consciousness, after the Death Eater tried to attack her from behind.

"Are you alright?" Remus asked worriedly, as Buffy stared down blankly at the dead Death Eater whose throat had been split wide open by her skate.

Buffy took a deep breath. She would not freak out over another human's death, she told herself. They were in a war – the Death Eaters were evil people who destroyed lives. Why should she allow herself to fall into another guilt-trip over one less to worry about? Death was a part of war. She was the Slayer. She fought evil, and in this case, the evil came in the form of human beings. She didn't like having to kill them, but Buffy understood the necessity now. "Yeah," she finally said, quirking an eyebrow at Remus as she looked up. "This was a bit of a déjà vu moment, actually. That was how I killed one of the Order of Tarootka in High School. Or maybe it was the Order of Turok-Han." She shrugged. "I can't really remember."

Remus smiled slightly, giving her a hug. "I don't think you've told me that story," he said, deciding it was better to change the subject rather than linger on the death Buffy had just caused.

Buffy shrugged again. "It was a crazy year. Lots of things happened. That was actually one of the more pleasant moments, in comparison to everything else."

Remus snorted. A second later, the doors to the ice-rink flew open and several of the younger Order members entered, their chattering coming to an abrupt stop as they took in the scene. Peter looked like he was about to lose his lunch when he saw the Death Eater who was bleeding out from the wide cut in his throat.

"I see you've been busy," one of the Prewett twins – Fabian, Buffy thought - remarked, sounding appreciative, looking from one body to the other.

"Same old, same old," Buffy said, and his brother, Gideon, burst out laughing.

Sirius sighed, shaking his head as he dropped his skates and pulled out his wand to make an arrest of the two Death Eaters still alive. And he'd been looking forward to an afternoon off. "Only you, Buffy. Still," he remarked when he saw the blood on one of Buffy's skates and put two and two together, "I can't deny you've got style."

* * *

**25 December**

"What do you have there?" James asked his wife, Harry sitting on his lap playing with the wrapping papers that had been on the gifts they had gotten from their friends. The three Potters were sitting on the floor in front of the large Christmas tree James had set up and Lily had decorated earlier that day: Harry had been absolutely fascinated and had loved playing with the tinsel.

"It's a present from Petunia," Lily said, sounding confused as she unwrapped it. "I didn't expect to get anything, considering the state of our relationship at the mom – oh, that's really ugly," Lily finished, interrupting herself as she caught sight of the hideous vase the present had contained.

James snorted. "Well, it's the thought that counts, right?" He said, happy that it seemed there was a chance for Lily to repair her relationship with her sister, even though he didn't particularly care for Petunia.

"In this case, at least," Lily said, putting the horrible vase aside with a slight shudder. "At any rate it's a sign all is not lost between us. Though Petunia's taste has never been the best, it was a nice gesture to send me this. She's reaching out."

"Did you send her anything?" James asked, while reaching for the string Harry was trying to put in his mouth, carefully pulling it away. Harry pouted, reaching for the string his father had put out of his reach, a look of intense concentration on his face. The next second, it had soared back into his slightly chubby hands, and Harry beamed, his gums visible. James couldn't help but beam back, despite his slight exasperation.

"I sent her a card, of course," Lily answered, taking the string from Harry once again and exchanging it with his sippy cup. Harry seemed happy with the new arrangement, at least for the moment, and didn't complain. "And a photograph of us three."

A knock on the door interrupted James' answer and he stood up, handing Harry over to Lily. "I'll get it."

Harry however, did not seem happy about his father's sudden departure, and wiggled out of Lily's arms, waving his sippy cup around before dropping it to the floor. Lily gasped as Harry suddenly began to pull himself up by grabbing onto her side. "James..." She whispered, and James turned around, the knock on the door forgotten, as both parents watched on transfixed as Harry slowly tried to stand, holding onto Lily's shoulder.

After awhile, the boy lost his balance and he fell onto his butt, a surprised look on his face. A second later, his face scrunched up, and it looked like he was going to cry, but to both Lily and James' surprise, no tears came. Instead, Harry grabbed onto his mother again, a stubborn look on his face as he started over, Lily steadying him slightly.

"Get the camera," Lily hissed, and wordlessly, James summoned it from the nearby table. The knocks on the door increased in volume, but both of the older Potters ignored it, fascinated by Harry's progress as their son finally stood up, steady, thanks to his mother's support against his back. Slowly, carefully, Lily removed her hand. After swaying slightly, it seemed like Harry managed to find his balance, only holding onto Lily for support.

"He's standing." There were tears in James' eyes as he took several pictures in a row. "You're such a smart boy, Harry!" He said, grinning widely as he put the camera down. "Such a smart boy!"

Harry looked up at his father, a happy gurgle escaping his grinning mouth, his green eyes shining, the colour having appeared gradually since his birth, to James' utter delight since it was identical to Lily's.

It knocked again, and James' eyes widened. "Right. The door. I'm coming!" He shouted, leaving the room, just as Harry fell on his butt again. Not at all injured, Harry crawled into his mother's lap, snuggling up to her with a grin.

"Oh, hey Bathilda!" They heard James' greet their visitor. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you too, James," Bathilda Bagshot said. "Though it's really not polite to leave an old woman waiting in the cold."

"We're very sorry, Bathilda," James said sheepishly. "But Harry was just standing for the first time – "

" – Oh, say no more, then!" Bathilda interrupted. "I completely understand." James re-entered the living room alongside Bathilda, who was carrying a large wrapped package under her arm. "Merry Christmas, Lily. And little Harry of course."

"Wave to Bathilda, Harry," Lily instructed, lifting Harry's arm and waving for him. Though slightly confused by the necessity of this, Harry was more than happy to play along.

"This is for you," Bathilda said, putting down her gift. A loud 'meow' sounded from inside the package and Harry's eyes widened in interest and he immediately began to crawl over to it, banging on the top. Another 'meow' could be heard, and James quickly waved his wand, which removed the paper, and revealed a large crate inside of which a white cat was curled up, its folded ears bent forward towards the front of the head. "She's a Scottish Fold. Very good-natured and affectionate. I leave the name up to you two."

"This is very generous of you, Bathilda," Lily said as she opened the cage door, quite happy at the thought of another pet. Selene, her loyal owl, had been gone for awhile now, and she didn't think she could ever bring herself to have another owl, but a cat was different.

The cat slinked out of the crate, cautiously inspecting her new surroundings, Harry following her every move. After awhile, the cat made her way over to Harry, sniffing him, before she sat down in front of him. Harry blinked, and green eyes met green as the cat stared curiously at the small boy and Harry stared just as curiously at the cat.

"I think Harry likes her," James remarked with a chuckle. "Though I'm less sure Padfoot will."

* * *

**1 January, 1981**

"Tell me a bedtime story, mum, please!"

Marlene McKinnon smiled at her daughter. "It's really late. You should be asleep by now."

"Well, you said I could watch the fireworks and ring in the New Year with you! And you never said you _wouldn't_read a story for me if I did!"

Marlene laughed at being outwitted. "Alright then. What do you want to hear?"

"Tell me about the Slayer!" Chelsea prompted, and Marlene laughed, not at all surprised: the Slayer myth had become one of Chelsea's favourite night-time stories since Chelsea had been four and afraid of monsters under the bed. Marlene had told her the myth hoping it would stop Chelsea from being afraid, and it had succeeded.

Now when Marlene had met the actual Slayer, the stories were becoming more lifelike, the Slayer she told her daughter about taking on many of Buffy's characteristics. Inwardly, Marlene smiled, wondering what Buffy would say if she knew.

"Alright. _In every generation, there is a Chosen One,"_ Marlene began, as always. _"She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer… 'But I don't want to be the Slayer,' the Californian girl replied to the middle-aged man standing in front of her. 'It is your destiny,' the man said. 'I don't believe in destiny,' the newly called Slayer, Bethany, said. 'I'm destiny free, really!'"_

Chelsea giggled and Marlene's smile widened: that was something Buffy had told her she'd said when she first found out what she was. _"The man – the Watcher – sighed. 'You don't have a choice, young lady. The world needs you. You have no idea of the damage demons and vampires can cause if you're not there to – "_

CRASH!

Chelsea screamed as a man came jumping in through the window, breaking it. Marlene quickly stood up, pulling out her wand. _"Stupefy!"_

To her horror, the man just laughed, and his face morphed into something none-human, something demonic, and Marlene paled as she realised she was facing a vampire. No wonder the stunning spell hadn't worked. _"Incen - "_

Before she could finish the incantation, the vampire rushed forward and grabbed her by the throat, snapping her wand in the process.

"Mum!" Chelsea cried.

"I was walking past on a stroll, and then I heard that delightful little bed-time story," the vampire said. "Usually, I avoid witches and wizards, but in this case, I just couldn't resist. Where is the Slayer now, huh?"

The door to the bedroom was kicked open, and the vampire turned to face the blonde figure shadowed in the doorway. Growling, the vampire threw Marlene onto the bed, choosing to face the new threat instead. Marlene embraced her sobbing daughter and could only watch in amazement at the physical fight that broke out between the vampire and their sudden rescuer.

"Who are you?" The vampire growled, after several seconds of trying, and failing to gain the upper-hand.

Marlene could almost hear the smirk in the attacker's voice, as the shadow of a stake was clearly visible in the dull light from Chelsea's bedside lamp, and then, the vampire dissolved into dust as it connected. "I'm Joshua, the Vampire Slayer."

Marlene's eyes almost bulged out of her head as she realised it hadn't been Buffy who came to her rescue, like she'd thought. Far from it, in fact. "You're who?" She exclaimed, as the Slayer – Joshua – flicked on the lights. Cocking an eyebrow, the blonde male – clearly not Buffy – smirked.

"I think you heard me. Is it about the myth thing?" He sounded amused. "Yeah, you were mythtaken."

Absently thinking his puns had nothing on Buffy's, Marlene tried to wrap her head around the fact that this universe had a Slayer after all…only it wasn't a girl. "Well…uhh…thanks for saving us, I guess."

Joshua shrugged. "It's what I do. I usually don't get involved with the Wizarding World, though, considering you know how to handle vampires yourselves and are clearly not unaware of the supernatural. But I've been tracking that bastard for hours, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity. And I couldn't just let it kill you."

"You really exist here too," Marlene breathed, and Joshua gave her a weird look.

"Too?"

"Yes, I know another Slayer. A girl."

"Impossible," Joshua stated arrogantly. "The Slayer is always a man. She must be a wannabe, or something. That, or delusional. Or evil. Possibly all three. I mean, seriously," he chuckled, "a girl fighting vampires and demons? That's just ridiculous. No one would fall for that!"

Marlene's left eye twitched in annoyance, not at all impressed by this male, chauvinistic pig, Slayer or not, even though he had just saved her and her daughter's life. "She's from a parallel dimension."

"You know a Slayer?" Chelsea breathed out excitedly, staring up at her mother with wide eyes.

"Yep," Marlene said, absently stroking her daughter's hair. Forcing up a smile, she turned back to Joshua. "How long have you been a Slayer?"

_"The _Slayer," Joshua corrected proudly. "The one and only. And to answer your question, for about a year."

Marlene nodded. "Uhu…and why have you, and previous Slayers, let the Wizarding World believe you're just a myth?"

"Like I said, the Wizarding World can take care of its own problems. Me, I focus on those without magic," Joshua shrugged. "Besides, I'm happy to be a myth. It makes my job easier if even those who know about me don't expect me coming. It's not my fault the original legend got twisted. It happens. I bet it was a feminist, though. I mean, only a feminist would turn the hero into a girl!"

Marlene smiled all too broadly at this, while wishing her wand hadn't been snapped so she could teach Joshua a much needed lesson on why women were to be feared, and not underestimated. "Well, we could really use your help in the war against You-Know-Who," she offered.

Joshua gave her a confused look. "Who? Oh, you mean that Dark Lord my Watcher told me about? Yeah, he said I should stay out of it, and I agree. I mean, he's your problem. Not mine."

"How can you say that?" Marlene protested. "He's as much a threat to non-magical people as us!"

"Then I'll deal with it when he actually starts attacking them rather than just talk about it."

"It's happening right now," Marlene said through gritted teeth.

"Fine," Joshua shrugged. "I'll deal with it when it becomes a bigger problem, like when he's doing something of apocalyptic proportions."

"It's your duty to stand against the forces of darkness," Marlene insisted and Joshua sighed.

"Is the Dark Lord a vampire?" He asked.

"No, but – "

"Is he a demon?"

"Well, no, but – "

"Half-demon? Part creature? Part…something else other than a wizard? No," Joshua answered himself this time. "In other words, _not _my area. It's yours. If he'd been a wiccan or a devil worshipper or something, I would have helped. Probably. But alas, no. There is a reason the Watcher's Council began to disassociate itself from you in the 15th century and allowed the Slayer to fall into obscure legend – you wizards only bring trouble. Like this war, for example. Anyway, nice meeting you," Joshua grinned broadly, and then he jumped out of the broken window, running off into the night.

"Show-off," Marlene muttered. Chelsea pulled at her sleeve.

"Mummy, tell me about the other Slayer that you met," she begged. "The girl?"

"Maybe tomorrow night, honey," she said. "It's past your bed-time now. Come on, you'll have to sleep in my room until your dad comes home so he can repair the window." She stared at her broken wand forlornly.

After putting a grumbling Chelsea to bed, Marlene walked into her living room and flooed Hogwarts. "Dumbledore? It's Marlene. I'm sorry for flooing this late, and on New Years of all times, but something just came up…"

* * *

"Another Slayer," Buffy repeated for the third time, still in shock. "Say it again – it hasn't really sunk in yet." It had been a shock when she'd met Faith, though she should have expected it: of course another Slayer would have been called, if not due to Kendra dying, then when she disappeared, to uphold the balance between and light and dark. But she had truly not expected to find out there was a Slayer in this dimension as well.

Marlene sighed. "Very well: the Slayer saved my life and my daughter's. The Slayer is a teenage boy. The Slayer's name is Joshua," she repeated shortly, for the fourth time that night. "The Slayer is also a prick."

It was very late, and more than one Order-member had been woken from their sleep or interrupted during their New Year's celebrations. Once they arrived at Hogwarts, however, and got to hear Marlene's news, they all became wide-awake, though a few of them – like Gideon and Fabian – looked somewhat inebriated.

"Go back to the part where the Slayer's a _bloke, _again, please," Sirius said dazedly. "I don't think I caught it the first three times."

"One boy in all the world, the Chosen One," Lily recited musingly, James having stayed at home to watch Harry. "He alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. He is the Slayer." The red-head shook her head decisively. "Nope. It doesn't really have the same ring to it," she decided.

Buffy couldn't help but agree: a boy as the Slayer? Everyone _expected _a guy to be able to fight, but who would ever suspect a teenage girl? The Slayer being a boy did not make any sense! It completely destroyed the element of surprise that made every ignorant creature of darkness exclaim: 'But you're just a girl!' before she killed them.

"Amazing," Dumbledore said, moving the conversation back on track. "I never even once considered the Slayer-myth had a base in reality," he sounded quite put out with himself. "We could have used her – I mean _his _– help in the war."

"Hey, what am I?" Buffy protested. "Chopped liver?"

"Of course not," Dumbledore said. "But with two Slayers standing against Voldemort's dark creatures, we have quite an advantage on our hands."

"Yes, except we still only have _one," _Marlene stressed.

Edgar Bones frowned. "What do you mean? You explained the situation to him, right? Asked for his help?"

"Yes, I did," Marlene said calmly. "But this Slayer _likes _just being a myth. And he also is of the opinion the Wizarding World can deal with its own problems, and to him, You-Know-Who is our problem. Did I mention this Slayer is a giant, conceited berk?"

"Yes, you did, several times, in fact," Benjy Fenwick said, amused.

"Well, it stands to be repeated. We are probably better off without him," Marlene concluded, still rather annoyed at Joshua's condescending act. "But don't worry," she added sarcastically. "If Voldemort starts worshipping the devil or begins entertaining thoughts of starting the Apocalypse, Joshua will _certainly _be here to save the day."

Gideon and Fabian sniggered.

Caradoc sounded annoyed as he spoke up: "Well, if he's not going to help us and has taken off, this meeting was entirely unnecessary!" Everyone rolled their eyes, more than used to Dearborn's grouchiness by now. It was sort of endearing, really. "When I get a floo-call in the middle of the night, I expect there to be some sort of emergency," Caradoc continued. "Like Death Eaters causing the fall of London Bridge, for example."

Sirius yelped and fell off his chair. Quickly, he got back to his feet, his right index finger pointing wildly at Caradoc, his other hand flailing wildly about. "Knock on wood!" He yelled, and quickly rapped at the tabletop with his knuckles, before grasping the table with both hands, his friends following his lead. After exchanging looks, Frank and Alice – who had Augusta to babysit Neville - did too, ignoring the stares from the other Order members.

"What?" Frank protested, seeing their incredulous looks. "I've experienced way too much danger in the field caused by an off-hand comment like that to not take it seriously. I'm not really willing to take the chance of it actually occurring, since I happen to _like _London Bridge." Alice nodded in agreement, and, slowly, one by one, the Order members knocked on wood as well (Dumbledore's knocks sounded a lot like a drum roll).

"Really, Car, what were you thinking?" Buffy said, shaking her head. "Many a times I've experienced the curse of jinxing yourself. It's like you were _asking _for it to happen."

Caradoc, the only one not to knock on wood, crossed his arms. "I'm not knocking on the table top like a bloody idiot."

"I'll make you," Buffy threatened, eyes narrowed.

"You wouldn't dare," Caradoc stated, narrowing his own eyes in challenge.

Buffy stood up and Caradoc yelped, quickly knocking on the table three times. "There! Happy?"

Satisfied, the Slayer sat down. "Very."

The Order members gathered chuckled.

"Well, since I was unable to reach everyone on such short notice and due to the date, we will speak more of this matter during our next meeting," Dumbledore decided, ignoring Caradoc's grumble of how no one sane answered the floo in the middle of the night, at this time of year, (even though he was quite tempted to point out that would make Caradoc one of the _in_sane, since he had).

As everyone went their separate ways, Buffy couldn't help but wonder that if something that wasn't supposed to exist in this world actually did, like the Slayer (even if _she_ was a _he, _and apparently a stuck-up brat), maybe there were other things. What else was like her old reality? Her heart beat a little faster.

Before now, it had barely crossed her mind that there might be alternate versions of the people she'd known, like...another version of her mother. A pained look crossed her face. While she had been able to make her peace with her friends when she'd met them again, it had been different with her mother: her mother had died under the illusion that Buffy was probably lying dead in a ditch somewhere, maybe hating her.

Buffy wished nothing more than to be able to make it right, somehow, though she knew it was impossible. And she logically knew that any version of her mother she might find here wouldn't be Joyce, not really. Still, she couldn't help but want to look into, at least, even if it would probably end in more disappointments. Her mother was gone; and she hadn't been there when it happened. There was nothing more to it but accept it.

* * *

**4 January**

During the Order meeting three days later, Marlene got to recite her story again, and then everyone got to watch her memory of it playing out above Dumbledore's pensieve. Once it ended with Joshua's dramatic exit through the window, silence commenced as they all digested what they'd seen.

"Wow," Alice was the first to speak, sounding a little stunned. "You certainly weren't joking the other day – he _is _a berk."

The Marauders sniggered.

"Good fighting technique though," Moody pointed out gruffly. "Better than yours," he added, turning to face Buffy.

"Hey!" Buffy exclaimed, offended. "I'll have you know my technique is uniquely me. I improvise! This guy clearly has no imagination. Besides," she sniffed, "I look way better in leather than he does. And, his puns sucked. _Mythtaken,_ really!" She huffed. "My puns, on the other hand," the blonde continued, "are to die for. People _have_ died for them. _Be_fore them. During them. Whatever. Anyway, my point is, I'm _deadly. _And Joshua-I-wanna-be-cool had several openings when he could have finished the fight, but didn't 'cause he was being cocky and clearly showing off."

_'A lot like Faith, actually,' _Buffy mused, though Faith hadn't been arrogant in an 'in your face' kind of way like Joshua evidently was. Hers had been a more subtle pride, not overconfident – she knew her limits. "One day, acting like that might get him killed."

Sirius nodded sagely in agreement. "It's the first lesson you learn as a child: don't play with your food."

"Hear, hear," Remus echoed, as several Order members chuckled.

"Well, young Joshua made it quite clear that he wanted nothing to do with the Wizarding World," Dumbledore mused out loud, bringing the conversation back on track. Stroking his beard. "Still, I feel we should make another attempt to recruit him. We need him, especially since Voldemort has not hesitated to force other innocent creatures to do his dirty work." The majority of the Order exchanged incredulous looks: there were quite a few words they could describe the Quintapeds with – _innocent _was not one of them. "And I believe we would have better success if we send Buffy to do it."

Buffy scoffed. "Because you think another Slayer will open his eyes? He didn't even believe I existed just because I happen to be a woman, and, he called me a _wannabe!" _A prominent pout appeared on her lips.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I have faith you will manage to bring him around to our way of thinking."

"And if not, you can always drag him there, kicking and screaming," Remus added with a grin. "Males are always more open to suggestion if a tiny female kick their arses first."

Buffy slowly began to smile, even as James said: "Speaking from experience there, Moony?"

"I was actually referring to you, Prongs," Remus said sweetly, not missing a beat.

* * *

_**Published: **31/5 -12  
____**Edited: **24/6 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- The Order Buffy is referring to is, of course, the Order of Taraka, not Tarootka or Turok-Han. Turok-Han is, incidentally (or not), the name of the ancient vampire race that were servants of the First in season seven, which Buffy has not encountered here.  
- The attack on the skating rink that Buffy refers to during which she slit the throat of a Taraka-member, occurred in BTVS 2x9: What's My Line, during one of her and Angel's dates. Clearly, dates and ice-skating should be avoided in Buffy's case. Also, in case you didn't get the hint, it was Peter who alerted the Death Eaters to Buffy's presence there, and why he looked like he was going to puke when he saw one of them dead: not because he was nauseated by the presence of blood, though that might have played a small part as well.  
- Lily getting sent a horrible vase by Petunia is mentioned in Lily's Letter in _HP and the Deathly Hallows_ chapter 10: Kreacher's Tale. Likewise, in the same letter, it is mentioned the Potters have a cat, which is why Bathilda gives them one in this chapter.  
- James' comment about Sirius might not like the cat refers to the fact that cats and dogs don't always get along.  
- Re: The vampire attack on Marlene. I know in BTVS vampires need an invitation to enter a home. Most folklore/vampire myth/stories say that the reason a vampire cannot enter a house without an invitation is because there is believed to be a 'personal power/spiritual magic' that protects what is beyond the threshold of a private residence which is hostile towards vampires. I've decided that in this universe, it doesn't work in Wizarding dwellings: the magic wizards and witches carry and surrounds themselves with negate this protection. Call it creative license.  
- Knocking on wood: a tradition in Western folklore in which you literally touch or knock on wood in order to avoid 'tempting fate' after speaking about something, often in jest.


	17. Blocks

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**A Request To My Readers:** I am currenly trying to decide whether Remus and Buffy's first (possibly only) child should be a boy or a girl. However, for some reason, I am completely incapable of making this decision on my own and without it, I literally can't continue to plan/write, because the perspective from/towards a girl/boy is so very different. Obviously, I need your help to decide! Let me know in a review or a message what gender you'd prefer, as soon as possible! Since it's such an important decision for what happens in the series once we reach the HP-era, I really hope you leave a vote/opinion. Please don't vote twins/one of each/no child at all. Thanks! /Ida

* * *

**19 January**

"Happy birthday, Buffy!" Remus said as he pulled away the curtains from the bedroom window with a flick of his wand, sending the sunlight streaming into their bedroom. On the bed, Buffy groaned, pulling the covers over her head. "I made breakfast for you: it's in the kitchen."

"And that's different from normal, how?" Buffy wondered, sitting up, her hair adorably mussed.

"Well, breakfast today includes chocolate, chocolate pancakes, chocolate milkshake, chocolate bagels, and did I mention the chocolate?" Remus said cheerily.

"Is this my birthday or _yours?"_ Buffy asked with amusement while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Chocolate bagels, huh?"

"Yep!"

"And presents?"

"Of course."

Buffy let out a theatrical sig and standing up. "You just don't play fair, Re. Chocolate, presents...can I expect flowers as well?"

"At this time of year, and for you?" Remus scoffed. "Of course not! I got you this instead!" He held up two identical daggers and Buffy grinned.

"You do know how to woo a girl," she said, pleased, as she walked into the bathroom.

Over breakfast, Remus noted Buffy's happiness seemed to have disappeared. "I thought we could head back to that ice-rink later," he said in an attempt to break the silence. "You seemed to enjoy it last time, and hopefully, there will be no murder attempts today."

"I'm not really in the mood for ice-skating, Re," Buffy admitted.

Remus frowned. "Something is bothering you," he noted, feeling Buffy's turbulent emotions in the back of his mind.

Buffy sighed. "It's just this other Slayer business. I mean, I assumed wrong. I was certain I was the only Slayer here, which was stupid of me, really. I mean, myths must come from somewhere, right? And it just...makes me wonder what else might be the same between this world and my old."

"You mean like another Hellmouth?" Remus asked. "I'm fairly certain the Wizarding World would have heard about something like that – I mean a hot spot filled with increased mystical energy is surely something wizards would be drawn to."

"I was actually thinking more along the lines of...people," Buffy admitted quietly.

Remus blinked. "People?"

Buffy nodded. "Like other versions of the people I knew from my old world. I know it sounds stupid, but – "

" – It doesn't sound stupid at all," Remus interrupted. "It actually makes somewhat sense, in a backward way. Who are you hoping to find?"

Buffy looked startled. "Find?"

"Buffy...this idea of yours wouldn't bother you so much unless you're hoping – or dreading - it will lead you somewhere...or to someone."

Buffy sighed. "My mother," she said. "I'm hoping there might be an alternate version of her somewhere. The way we left things...it bothers me."

Remus took her hand. "I understand. I just worry that_ if_ you find her – because I have no doubt you're going to look for her – it will only hurt you more. She won't be _your _mother, Buffy."

Buffy sighed. "I know that. I know. I just...have to see anyway."

"What brought these thoughts on, anyway? Was it just finding out about Joshua?"

"That's what started it," Buffy shrugged. "But it's on my mind more prominently today because of what today is."

"Your birthday?" Remus asked, looking confused.

Buffy smiled weakly. "My _real_ birthday. 19 January, 1981 – it's the actual date I was born on in my old world."

"Oh. Well, doubly happy birthday to you, then," Remus said, squeezing her hand. "Though, when you go looking for your mother, you should probably be extra prepared, just in case."

"Just in case of what?"

Remus smirked. "Just in case she's walking around with an alternate version of a mini-you, of course."

Buffy gawked at him for a moment, her eyes crossing slightly as she thought of that possibility, which was beyond weird to think about. "Oh, let's hope not."

* * *

**24 January**

"I am so furious I could just _scream!"_ Lily exclaimed, sitting down in the sofa in the living room and throwing down her shopping bag with food in annoyance. "The nerve of that man…"

"Who are you talking about?" James asked, without taking his eyes off Harry who was happily crawling around on the floor, entertaining himself by using magic to throw a ball across the room and then crawl to get it, only to start over.

"Dumbledore!" Lily answered with an angry huff. "I ran into him in the village when I came out of the store. He berated me for being out and about!" Lily huffed. "He seemed to think it was an unnecessary risk."

James frowned. "He told me the same thing when he heard me and Sirius make plans to go out one night after an Order meeting. I can see why he's concerned, but Dumbledore can't honestly think we're just going to sit around at home all the time? We'd go mad!"

"That's what I told him!" Lily agreed. "And then I asked, quite bluntly, if I'm not allowed to go to the store, are we expected to starve?" She snorted. "Dumbledore told me I was being childish and careless. _Careless!_ We're being as careful as we possibly can! The only people who even know we live here and not at Potter manor are him, Moody, Sirius and the villagers, and the majority of them are muggles! Not to mention the fact that our house is probably among the most well warded in Britain!"

"What was Dumbledore's response to that?" James asked.

Lily shrugged. "He just frowned and mumbled something about looking into _'alternate precautions' _and left." She let an eyebrow rise when she caught sight of Harry's game with his ball. Harry was now sitting up and bouncing the ball against the window – magically, of course. Neither of them noticed the ball was speeding up for every time. "Is he doing magic?"

"Yep!" James said proudly. "Isn't he brilliant!"

"Are you sure it's safe? I mean after what happened when Sirius babysat him, maybe we shouldn't encourage him…"

"Harry was having a temper tantrum, which is why his magic was slightly more…volatile. It's not like it's doing any harm now – I mean look at him! He's playing with a ball – how is that in any way dangerous?"

Just as James finished saying that, there was a loud crash and both Potters jumped up as Harry's ball went through the window and glass shattered everywhere. "Harry!" Lily shouted, her face pale as she rushed over and quickly lifted Harry up into his arms.

Luckily, because of the trajectory of the ball, the window had exploded outwards, and only some had landed inside the house - unfortunately, Harry had been sitting exactly where that had been. Harry was screaming in shock and pain – there was glass in his hair and a few, small, sharp shards had imbedded themselves in his soft skin.

James swallowed. "We need to get him to St. Mungo's," he said, trying to keep himself calm – even though he was anything but.

Lily nodded, tears in her eyes as she did her best to calm Harry – unfortunately, her tries seemed only to upset him more, and the lights were begin to flicker again. "But it's such a public place…"

"Let's take him to Buffy's, then," James said, taking charge of the situation. "She's had Healer training, and even though this kind of thing isn't her specialty, I'm sure she can take care of it."

"Right." Lily nodded. "James…I don't think I can apparate right now…I'm too upset…"

Without a word, James took both Lily and Harry in his arms, apparating away with a loud 'crack.'

* * *

"Oh, my God! What happened?" Remus exclaimed when the Potters arrived in the middle of his and Buffy's living room. "Was there an attack?"

James shook his head. "Is Buffy home?"

Remus nodded. "She's in the basement. I'll get her." He quickly rushed out. A minute later, Buffy arrived, slightly sweaty – it was clear she had been working out. When she saw Harry, she paled.

"Remus, get me my Healer's bag, please." Without a word, Remus summoned it, and Buffy immediately began to rummage through it. "Lily, is there any glass in his back?"

"I-I don't think so," Lily said, carefully checking. Harry had stopped screaming when they had arrived, probably from the feeling of the apparition, and was now only sniffing, silent tears streaming from his green eyes.

"Good. _Accio_ towels!" Two large, fluffy towels came flying from the bathroom and Buffy immediately spread one of them out on the table, swiping off the things already on it with nary a thought. "Put Harry down here…" With a flick of her wand, Buffy removed Harry's clothes. "Lily, you can comb his hair to get the glass out from there, while I take care of the rest," she said, having a feeling Lily needed something to do. "Remus, get me a bowl of hot - no, make that lukewarm - water, please."

"I'm on it," Remus said, disappearing into the kitchen.

Holding her wand above Harry and mumbling an incantation, Buffy let out a sigh in relief when the results showed none of the glass had pierced him very deeply. "He'll be alright," she said, and James sank down in a nearby chair, his entire body shaking as the shock finally caught up with him. "What happened?" Buffy asked, while pointing the tip of her wand against one of the shards and casting another – this time silent – spell. There was a small flash of white, and the shard disappeared. Quickly, Buffy turned her attention to another shard.

"I-I'm not sure, exactly. I-it…it shouldn't have been possible. There was a bit of an incident," James croaked out.

"_A bit of an incident?"_ Lily nearly shouted. "James, he could have died! I told you it was dangerous, but you insisted it was safe – "

" – It should have been!" James stood up. "I mean he was playing with a ball for Merlin's sake – "

" – Against the window! We should have realised it could break - "

"It shouldn't have been _possible _for it to break!" James protested. "The glass is protected by magic, Lily – a muggle ball shouldn't have managed to make even a crack in it, even if it hadn't been! I mean, the ball is made of _foam rubber and plastic,_ for Merlin's sake!"

"Well, you should have thought – "

"Let's all just calm down," Remus said as he re-entered the room with the water. Buffy immediately put a few drops of some potion in it, and gave some small tufts of cotton to Remus, with the instruction to dip them into the mixture and dab them against Harry's wounds. As he did so, Remus immediately saw they disappeared under his attention. "It was clearly an accident, Lily."

Lily bit her lip, carefully combing through Harry's messy hair. The toddler was looking calmer now.

"You said a window_ exploded_ after Harry bounced a ball made up of foam rubber and plastic against it?" Buffy frowned. "James is right, Lily – it shouldn't have been possible. At least not unless the window was already heavily cracked and on the verge of breaking, and you would have noticed that."

"I don't understand it," James said, "but I suppose Harry must have…done _something,_ either to the ball, or the glass, or both, with accidental magic. He's obviously a lot more powerful than we thought."

"I don't know what we're going to do, Buffy," Lily admitted. "He could have _died._ What's to say he won't, next time? I mean, he was just_ playing _– this took us completely by surprise."

"And he wasn't experiencing any intense emotions?" Remus asked.

James shook his head. "No. He was just happy and concentrated on his game. It was nothing like his mood when Sirius babysat him, for example – the diaper incident: did he tell you about that?"

"Yes," Buffy nodded and then sighed. "Well, I have a suggestion for you, but I'm not sure you're going to like it."

"We're willing to consider anything at this point," Lily said.

"In one of my books for my Healer training, I read that sometimes, when a child's magic is stronger than average…well, they place blocks, I guess you could call them, on their magical core," Buffy said carefully.

"Are you suggesting we_ bind_ Harry's magic?" James sounded horrified.

"Not completely," Buffy hurriedly explained. "And obviously it's not a permanent solution. It's just something that's done while a child is still little and doesn't have any control over their magical outbursts. It's a safety precaution, to keep accidents like this from happening. The block is then removed, a little at a time as the child grows so he – or she – gets used to the strength of their magic gradually: they grow with it. By the time they turn eleven, it should have been completely removed, so it won't affect their schooling."

"It…it sounds like a good idea, James," Lily said hesitantly, but James was shaking his head.

"No. I am not binding Harry's magic. It's wrong! It's a part of him!"

"It's not going to affect him negatively – it will only help him!" Lily tried to convince her husband. "I can see why you're against this, but like Buffy said, it's not _permanent!_ What if something like today happens again, only worse?"

James pursed his lips, glancing at Harry whom Lily was now wrapping up in the other towel – it was so big he nearly drowned in it. When Harry saw his father, his eyes lit up, and he began to squirm, clearly tired of all the fussing by now. As much as he hated to admit it, Lily had a point. And if something happened to Harry – especially if it could have been prevented – he would never forgive himself. "I'll consider it," he finally conceded with a sigh.

* * *

**30 January**

"Buffy? Can I come over?"

Buffy blinked, putting down her book to stare at Lily's floating head in the fireplace. "Sure…" Lily's head disappeared and two seconds later, it flared up and the red-head stepped out, a scowl on her face. "Eh…happy birthday?" Buffy greeted weakly.

"What's so happy about it?" Lily muttered, throwing herself down in an armchair. "Is Remus home?"

"No, he's out for the moment," Buffy said, getting more confused by the second.

"Good…"

Buffy quirked an eyebrow at her best friend. "Is something wrong, Lily? I thought we weren't going to meet up until tonight to celebrate you turning twenty-one?"

"Change of plans. Dumbledore thinks it's too risky to go anywhere."

Buffy frowned. "What do you mean, _too risky?"_

"It's complicated."

"Try me," Buffy challenged, putting down her book. "Something is clearly going on with you and James, Lils. Neither Remus or I can get a hold of you unless we go through Sirius first and other than during that incident with Harry, Order meetings and Death Eater attacks, we've barely seen you at all."

To her surprise, Lily burst into tears. "I'm going crazy!" The red-head exclaimed, sobbing. "Everything…everything is so _wrong_ and James has Sirius to talk to but I have no one to confide in and I just don't know what to do! _Tell me what to do,_ Buffy!"

Gawking, Buffy could do nothing but move over and pull the red-head into a hug as she cried on her shoulder. "I don't even know what's going on here, Lily. So how am I supposed to help you unless you explain things to me first? And what do you mean, you have no one to confide in? I'm right here, aren't I?"

Lily sniffed. "We're not supposed to tell anyone. Dumbledore was really mad about Sirius knowing, even though he figured out most of it himself…"

"Well, screw him, then," Buffy said and Lily let out a startled little laugh. "You know you can trust me, Lily, and you clearly need to talk to _someone."_

Lily nodded, and then it all came tumbling out: the prophecy, Voldemort being after Harry, going into hiding in Godric's Hollow while letting no one know about the move from Potter manor, Dumbledore's vagueness and disapproval…all of it. "…And now both James and I are worried about Harry and we've been arguing about it all week. And we're both practically climbing on the walls of frustration since we're not allowed to go anywhere, and both James and I are taking it out on each other. And keeping up the façade of everything being happy and dandy in front of everyone else and lying about where we're living is really tiring."

Overwhelmed, Buffy leaned back. "Shit," she summed up eloquently and Lily burst out into new tears, this time mixed with genuine laughter.

"You can say that again."

"Well," Buffy finally said thoughtfully after Lily had pulled herself together some. "It seems to me most of your problems right now stem from being forced to stay at Godric's Hollow. I mean, you obviously can't do anything to change Voldemort's interpretation of the prophecy, and the decision of what to do about Harry's magic lies with you and James. But I think I can do something about your 'house-arrest.'"

Lily frowned. "But Dumbledore said – "

" – Oh, pooey," Buffy scoffed. "He's the leader of the Order, sure, and he's got that whole 'wise grand-wizard' thing going for him, but he's not all knowing. And I speak from experience when I say that. I understand why he's worried and why you should avoid public places like Diagon Alley, the Ministry, St. Mungo's and such, but what about the muggle world? As long as you take proper precautions I don't see why you can't leave the house every now and then. Staying alive is important, but what about _living?_"

Lily sighed. "I know, Buffy. And both James and I have tried to talk to Dumbledore about it, but he won't listen. And it's _Dumbledore!_ It's really hard to say no to him..."

"Then don't tell him," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. "Grow a backbone. Are you a Gryffindor or not? Just like a lot of people have blinders on when it comes to Voldemort, it seems to me a lot of you have it when it comes to Dumbledore too, just because you've grown up hearing of his accomplishments. But that doesn't make him God. He can give you advice and caution you to be careful, but it's _your_ life, Lily. Your decision."

Lily sighed. "I know, I know. What are your thoughts on that darn prophecy, by the way? Since you're the prophecy girl and all."

Buffy snorted. "Well…I think it's vague as hell with as many holes as Swiss cheese. I could nitpick it apart for eternity, no problem, but what matters is what Voldemort thinks. He obviously sees it as something very straight-forward with only one solution – not very Slytherin of him, I must admit - and he'll deal with it accordingly. By that, I mean kill any possible threat – Harry being one - before they can become an actual one. Try not to think about it too much, Lily."

Lily stared at her like she was crazy. "How can you say that?"

"It's driving you mad," Buffy said bluntly. "You can't change it, or change how Voldemort sees it. But you can change _your _circumstances." Her eyes glinted. "So what do you say? Are you up for planning a prison break?"

Lily's eyebrows rose, intrigued, despite herself. "A prison break?"

Buffy shrugged. "Well, a Godric's Hollow break might be more accurate. You see, I'm planning on leaving the country for awhile and head to slightly warmer climates, and I happen to need a clever and daring travel-companion…"

* * *

**2 February**

"I'm still not sure about this, Lily," James muttered, pulling a hand through his messy hair while looking down at Harry who smiled back at him. He was teething and had been rather fussy the past few days, but seemed to be feeling happier.

"You know what Buffy said, and all the books I consulted said the same thing – binding Harry's magic is the best thing for him, James," Lily said, voice determined, though it was slightly wobbly. "And it's not permanent, and it will only help him. I couldn't stand another accident."

James sighed. "Me neither, but I still don't like it."

"And you think I do?" Lily questioned. "I thought we made a decision about this last night – are you changing your mind again?"

James shook his head, picking up Harry from his sitting position on the blanket on the floor. The toddler immediately began to wriggle to get down: ever since Harry started crawling and on occasion, standing, he preferred to be on the floor on his own, rather than in his parents arms, unless he was tired, hungry or wanted to be comforted. "No. Let's just get it over with."

With a slightly shaking hand, Lily pointed her wand at Harry who stared at it curiously and tried to grab it. _"Obligamus magica,"_ Lily intoned. _"Maecenas at destruere sedecim annis."_ A flash of white light surrounded Harry for a moment, before it turned grey and then disappeared. As if sensing something was wrong, or different, Harry began to cry.

"It's alright," James muttered, placing a soft kiss on Harry's head. "Hey, little man. You're fine, okay? You're just fine…" Lily dropped her wand, sniffling, as she saw Harry's distress. "When can we begin to remove it?" James asked.

"Umm…the books said that normally, the blocks are removed bit by bit every two weeks," Lily answered.

James nodded, pulling her close to him, one arm holding the crying Harry and the other embracing her. "Alright. What was that last part you added? That wasn't part of the spell."

"A fail-safe," Lily said. "In case the block has not been completely removed for some reason by the time he turns eleven, it will be destroyed automatically when Harry turns sixteen." She smiled weakly. "Neither of us were very comfortable with this solution, James. But it had to be done, and with that addition to the spell, we can be sure that Harry will regain all his magic eventually, even if something were to happen to us."

"Good thinking," James said. "Clever. Why sixteen though? Why not eleven?"

"Eleven is too early. If the majority of his magic is still bound at that time, his body won't be able to handle the massive influx of a lot of it at once. There is a reason we have to remove the block gradually. At sixteen, his body should be mature enough to handle it, even if - " she swallowed " – even if we were to die tomorrow and nothing gets unblocked until then because of it."

James nodded. "Well," he said slowly, "I'm not planning to die tomorrow, just so you know. Are you?"

Lily snorted. "Hardly. I'm planning a vacation and I'm not going to kick the bucket until I've had it."

"Really?" James asked, grinning. "A vacation, huh? How come this is the first I hear about it?"

Lily's green eyes twinkled. "Because it's girls only, of course. No boys invited."

"No boys?" James asked with a mock-gasp. "And what am I and Harry supposed to do while you're on this vacation of yours?"

Lily shrugged. "Make a mess of things, probably," she said, only half-joking. "But honestly, James, I need some time away from Godric's Hollow. And you and I need some time apart – I think you know that as well.

James reluctantly nodded. "Yes, I do. I was actually talking to Sirius about it, just the other day. The question is, how do we make this vacation happen?"

"Well, at first, I was just going to tell you and then take off with Buffy, without telling Dumbledore," Lily said. "Because we both know he'll be against it. But if you want to go on a vacation as well, and I presume its one with Sirius, I think we will have to consult with him. If we have a solid plan and have considered all possible security issues, he can't possibly say no, though."

* * *

**7 February**

"Absolutely not," Dumbledore told the four-some gathered in his office, a large frown on his face. "A _vacation_? It is out of the question!"

"Just for a few days," Buffy said, having given herself the job of being the Potters' spokesperson – for some reason, she seemed to be the only one able to stand up to Dumbledore. "Lily needs to spend some time with someone sane – by that I mean another woman. And James needs some time to do typical guy-things – by that I mean get plastered and make a fool out of himself at a pub somewhere."

"Hey!" James protested, while Sirius sniggered.

"I can see why being coped up inside is difficult," Dumbledore's began patiently as he looked at Lily and James, "but surely you realise it's for your own – and your son's - safety? Even coming here to Hogwarts is risky."

"If Lily and James want a few days to themselves, they have a right to it," Buffy said firmly. "You're the leader of the Order – not their parent."

"And yet you must understand that leaving the safety of their home for no other reason than go off on an irresponsible adventure and joy-ride for their own amusement is outright foolish with Voldemort having painted a target on their backs," Dumbledore retorted.

Buffy let an eyebrow rise. "I wouldn't call this trip irresponsible or something they thought up on a whim for sheer amusement. I would however call it _necessary_ for their mental health."

"And what about their _physical _health?" Dumbledore countered.

"What about it?" Buffy shrugged. "The worst that will happen to James is a hangover, and Lily a sunburn. She will be in _California_ – as far as I know, Voldemort's influence hasn't stretched to America. As for James, he and Sirius are more than capable of getting out of any sticky situations that might _potentially _arise. And if I were to make a guess, that sticky situation is more likely to be a bar-brawl than a Death Eater attack."

Sirius leaned towards a slightly offended-looking James. "She doesn't seem to have a very high opinion of our escapades, does she?" He mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

"No. But I'm hoping she's just saying it to make a point to Dumbledore," James whispered back. Beside him, Lily barely held a back a snort. As if sensing her amusement, Harry, who was sitting on her lap, smiled toothily.

"And furthermore," Buffy continued, "Harry will be perfectly fine with the Longbottoms – it gives him a chance to become friends with Neville: spending time with more people than their parents is crucial for a child's development. James needs time to chill out with Sirius, or he will sneak out anyway and likely do something stupid. And Lily won't be vacationing – she will be with me, on a mission that could revolutionize physics as we know it, as we to try to find if there are physical things and people that coincide with the universe I'm from. Think of it as practical research on trans-world identity."

Dumbledore looked surprised that Buffy even knew this term, let alone what it was. As if knowing what he was thinking, Buffy smirked. "I'm smarter than I look. But I still need Lily's brains for this." _'But mostly her company as my best-friend.'_ "Besides, I was also planning to try and track down Joshua. Which was _your _idea, I might add."

Dumbledore let out a deep sigh. "This still strikes me as reckless – " he held up a hand to stall another pre-prepared argument from Buffy, "but I will allow it, as long as you adhere to a couple of conditions." He gave James and Lily a stern look. "Harry must stay at Godric's Hollow – I do not want both Harry and Neville at the same place, for reasons I will not divulge in front of Buffy. It's bad enough Sirius knows."

"Oh, you mean the prophecy?" Buffy said lightly. "I know all about it too."

Dumbledore threw Lily and James a disapproving look they met calmly. "I see," the Headmaster said after a short staring-competition. "Well, then you understand my concerns. It would be foolish to keep both the children the prophecy might apply to in the same hiding place, which means, James and Lily, you can't leave at the same time. One of you will have to stay at home with your son."

James and Lily exchanged looks, a wordless conversation passing between them. "Lily can take her vacation first – I think Buffy was planning to leave in a couple of days – and I'll do something with Sirius when they get back," James said after a few seconds.

"Could you include Remus in whatever you're planning to do?" Buffy asked.

James nodded in agreement, while Sirius grimaced, but didn't protest. "Sure," James said. "In fact, if we could rope Peter into it as well, we'll make a marauder thing out of it."

Lily glanced at her husband. "I'm scared to ask what that means."

James only smirked.

"Before you go, James, is it alright if I come by Godric's Hollow in the next couple of days to borrow your invisibility cloak?" Dumbledore asked as everyone stood up to leave.

James threw the Headmaster a startled look. "My cloak? What do you want with it?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled. "Call it an old man's curiosity. I just need to check something, and I need the invisibility cloak to do it."

Slightly sceptical, since he knew full well Dumbledore could make himself invisible without a cloak, James agreed. "Alright, I guess. It's not like I have any use of it right now. But could whatever it is you need it for wait until after my marauders' vacation?"

"And so he solemnly swears to be up to no good," Sirius chortled, exchanging high fives with his best friend.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Yes, it can wait. Try not to create too much mayhem during this vacation of yours," he added after a slight pause.

"I'm not making any promises I know I won't keep," James said, smirking along with Sirius.

Lily sighed. _"Men..."_

* * *

**__****Published: **_22__/6 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Buffy's birthday: In BTVS we know this date is a disaster waiting to happen – if something can go wrong, it will go wrong, usually with catastrophic consequences. It started, of course, with Angel's transformation to Angelus. But since Buffy ended up in HP-verse after season two, she has therefore managed to avoid the birthday effect so far – clearly, it's something to do with the Hellmouth. Catastrophic Halloweens, on the other hand... The date of Buffy's real birthday, 19 January, 1981, is BTVS canon.  
- Lily's binding spell, latin translation (Google Translate): Obligamus magica = Bind magic. Maecenas at destruere sedecim annis. = Destroy the block at sixteen years.  
- Trans-world identity (from Wikipedia): The idea that objects exist in multiple possible worlds.  
- "I'm smarter than I look" – I often think Buffy's intelligence is underestimated because she tends to portray herself as a 'silly blonde,' and her mutilation of words only enforce this. Personally, I think she enjoys being underestimated.  
- We know the reason Dumbledore wants to borrow James' cloak is because he wants to see if it's a Deathly Hallow. In canon, that is – here: perhaps, perhaps not. Will it matter? Perhaps, perhaps not.  
- "And so he solemnly swears to be up to no good" – Well, James is a marauder. And there has been far too little marauding in this series so far...


	18. Parents

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

**RE: request for my readers:** Thank you for all your votes and opinions about Buffy and Remus' future child! I have decided the gender now, which means I can get on writing the next story in the series! /Ida

* * *

**10 February**

"I've got to say, Buffy, I'm really liking your mission to find your mother so far," Lily remarked happily on her and Buffy's second day in America, letting out a content sigh as she fell back on her hotel bed.

Buffy grinned. "Well, just because I'm planning to try and find a version of my mother doesn't mean I can't have fun while trying to do it."

Lily laughed appreciatively. "Well, what about Joshua? Didn't you tell Dumbledore you were going to track him down?"

Buffy shrugged. "Sure. But we only have five days – I'm not going to waste them chasing after Joshua 'I-think-I'm-all-that' when I have no idea where to look. He's a Vampire Slayer – my guess is he moves around a lot, since there doesn't seem to be any Hellmouths in this dimension. But I'm going to check out this world's Sunnydale just in case."

"Oh, I'm all up for that!" Lily sat up again. "The chance of seeing where you lived – "

" – Hold your horses," Buffy laughed. "Not only is this a different universe, this is Sunnydale 1981, not Sunnydale 1996-1998. The chance of it looking anything like I'm used to is very slim. The chance of my house being there is even slimmer."

Lily sighed. "Well, I still think it will be ace. So is Sunnydale where we're headed next?"

Buffy shrugged. "It's the most logical option. We're in Santa Barbara now – Sunnydale is very near here. It will be easy to apparate there."

Lily looked alarmed. "I don't know where it is, Buffy. I can't apparate somewhere I don't know the location of."

"I'll take you side-along," Buffy dismissed. "Anyway, after I've checked out Sunnydale and see if my mom lives there – which I doubt - I think we should head to Los Angeles. That's where I lived with my parents until I got expelled and mom and dad got divorced."

"Los Angeles is rather big," Lily said doubtfully.

"I know. But I know our old address and where mom used to work. And if that doesn't lead me anywhere, I'll check out the LA phonebook and systematically call every Joyce Summers on the list until I hit bingo."

"And if you don't hit bingo?" Lily asked carefully. "What if you're wrong about another version of her existing?"

"Then that's that and we'll do the LA party-scene instead and spend an unhealthy amount of time shopping for clothes and shoes. You can never have too many shoes," Buffy said lightly, though her stomach churned uncomfortably. If she was wrong... "I mean, it was only an idea to begin with. And if LA doesn't work out, trying to chase down every Joyce Summers that exist across the globe seems not only exhausting, but also like overkill, especially when there's no guarantee this idea of mine will even will pan out. That will just prove this world and my old won't have that much in common after all."

"What about versions of your other friends? I know most of them would be babies or not even born yet, but what about Angel?" Lily asked slowly.

Buffy froze. "Oh. Well, I-I think it would be too weird. I mean, I got my closure with him when I visited my old world. If I saw a version of him here, I think it would only wreck that. A-and even if he does exist here, what's to say he ever got turned into a vampire? If he didn't, he would have died long ago. And if he did, he might never have gotten his soul, which would mean if I found him, I would be obligated to stake him." Buffy swallowed. "Even if it wouldn't be _my _Angel, I don't think I would be able to bring myself to kill him again. And if he _does_ have his soul, I think this is around the time when Angel - at least the Angel as I know him – lived in alleys and fed on rats."

Lily wrinkled her nose and Buffy's lips twisted slightly. "I know. I don't think I want to see that either. Besides, what would I even say? _Hi, I'm Buffy the Vampire Slayer and we dated in a parallel universe before you went psycho and I had to kill you. But don't worry – you came back to life because the Powers That Be have a destiny for you! _Yes, I can see that going over well. My mother is really the only one I need to see because I never got to say goodbye."

"Well, what do you want to say to her if you see her?" Lily wondered. "You can't exactly tell her you're her daughter."

"I don't know," Buffy said quietly. "I don't even know if I _want_ to say anything. I just want to see her alive."

"Well, I do hope you find her, Buffy," Lily said gently. "Even if I also think that might end up just as painful for you, but in a different way."

"I know," Buffy said quietly, and then smiled at the red-head's earnest expression. "I'm glad you're with me, Lil. I wouldn't want to do this alone."

* * *

**12 February**

Just like Buffy had suspected, there was no sign of a version of Joyce Summers living in Sunnydale, nor was there any sign of the town being a Hellmouth: the lack of cemeteries (only one in comparison to the twelve Sunnydale had in Buffy's world) was very telling. Buffy had even gone to Sunnydale High, in this world a very small one story building pained a light yellow, without it setting of any Slayer-senses. As such, Buffy and Lily had barely stayed a day in Sunnydale before they headed to LA and checked into a hotel.

After a good night's sleep, Buffy had apparated herself and Lily to the museum where Joyce had worked. That had turned out to be a dead end, with no Joyce Summers being found in the museum's employee records. Not to be deterred, Buffy had decided the house she had grown up in with her parents was to be their next stop. After knocking they found the house inhabited by a couple of newlyweds, and as far as they knew, no Joyce or Hank Summers had ever lived there.

"I'm sorry Joyce wasn't there, Buffy," Lily said, placing a hand on Buffy's shoulder as they left the house.

Buffy shrugged. "It's alright," she said but Lily could clearly see it wasn't. She threw Buffy a sympathetic smile.

"So what's next?" She asked. "Do we apparate to the nearest telephone booth?"

"No," Buffy said. "I still have one place to check." And before Lily could react, Buffy had grabbed her arm and apparated them both away with a loud 'crack.'

"Give a woman some warning next time!" Lily yelped as they came to arrive in front of a twenty-story tall office building.

"Sorry," Buffy said. Seeing Lily's questioning look, Buffy bit her lip. "This is where my dad used to work. I-it looks a bit different than I remember…"

"Well, it is a different universe," Lily said logically, and Buffy let out a slight laugh.

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Squaring her shoulders, she marched inside, a winning smile on her face. "Hi. Hank Summers' office?" She asked the secretary sitting in the welcoming area.

"Tenth floor, second corridor, first door on the left," the secretary said without looking up, and Buffy let out a squeak of surprise.

"Thanks," Lily said, grabbing a frozen Buffy and dragged her towards the elevators. As they entered and Lily pushed the button the tenth floor, she noticed Buffy's hands were shaking.

"Oh, God, Lily," Buffy whispered, her eyes wide. "I-I didn't expect he would really be here. I-I mean…what should I say? What should I _do?" _

"Buffy…just breathe," Lily told her. "You'll think of something. Improvise. You're good at that. And remember – it's not really your father."

Buffy nodded, taking a few deep breaths. The elevator doors opened, and Lily practically pushed Buffy through towards Hank's office. "I'm not dressed for this," Buffy muttered. "I-I need to look more professional. Like a secretary."

Lily let an eyebrow rise, but quickly transfigured Buffy's and her own clothes into something work-appropriate. "Thanks," Buffy said, and opened the door which had a simple plaque on it with 'Hank Summers' in gold-lettering and stepped inside.

"Mr. Summers?" She said with a simpering smile, feeling slightly sickened at what she had to do. She was on good terms with her real father, despite the fact that he had cheated on her mother and left them, and she didn't like having to deceive him. Well, this version of him, even if it was necessary. "Hi, I'm Buffy Su-aunders," Buffy's grin widened a fraction to cover up her little slip on her last name. "I'm your new secretary."

"A new secretary?" Hank looked surprised. "I wasn't aware I was getting someone new? What happened to Carmen?"

"Umm…she's sick," Buffy said trying not to glare – Carmen had been the name of the secretary her father had had an affair with. She really hoped this version of her Hank Summers wasn't so much as _thinking _of anything that could be considered being less than faithful. Especially since, in her old universe, Buffy was less than a month old at this point in time, and if this version of Hank was having stray thoughts about other women, it wasn't entirely unlikely her real father had as well.

"Huh." Hank said, slightly surprised. "I thought she was just running late. She always calls in if she's sick. Who's your friend?" He finally noticed Lily, frowning at him slightly.

"Oh, I'm just showing Buffy around," Lily said weakly. "I'm going now." She quickly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her – and smoothly stunned the dark-haired beauty with a name-plaque that said 'Carmen' who had just been about to enter Hank's office. Quickly checking to see no one was watching, Lily pushed the now unconscious woman into a nearby supply closet, and locked it with a quick _"Colloportus," _trying to look nonchalant as she turned back around.

Inside the office, Hank was giving Buffy a searching look. Finally, he grinned at her charmingly. "Buffy, huh? I always liked that name. If I ever have a child of my own, and it's a girl, I would like to name her Buffy."

Buffy laughed lightly, her heart feeling strangely warm – and then it did a strange lurch as she realised a baby-version of her did not exist here. Hank and Joyce Summers were childless. "Well, don't. You have no idea how much I've been teased for my name."

Hank chuckled. "I don't think I would get to decide – my fiancée is very head-strong, and she's determined to name any daughters we have Anne."

"You're not married?" Buffy blurted out, shocked. Though 'she' didn't exist here, she had still expected her parents' to be married…

"No," Hank said cautiously, leaning back in his chair. "Look, Ms. Saunders – I'm sorry if I've somehow given you a wrong impression – "

" – Oh, no, not at all!" Buffy exclaimed hurriedly, her face red as she realised her father (kind of) thought she'd been flirting. "I'm sorry. I was just surprised. You just struck me as a family-man."

Hank let out a little laugh. "Really? Well, I did propose to Joyce with an eventual family in mind, but I'm too focused on my career right now. Children are still at least a few years away in my mind."

Buffy's heart sank as she came to realise what her head had accepted, but her heart hadn't. His name might be Hank Summers, and he might work in the same office he had when he was married to her mother – but he wasn't married to her. Just engaged. This was a man who was married to his job.

This was notthe man who indulged her love for ice-skating. This was not the man who sneaked her money for unnecessary shopping-sprees. This was not the man who drove her to school or her friends' house. This was not the man who used to clap and cheer at her various school-performances or during cheerleading competitions.

On the other hand, this was not the man who, along with her mother, had thrown her into a mental institution. This was not the man who cheated and left his family. This Hank Summers was still faithful and in love with his mother, despite the existence of Carmen the secretary. But all in all, it came down to one thing: this was not_ her_ father. "Joyce? Is that your fiancée's name?" She asked, a slight tremble in her voice, scared that this idea of hers to try to find her mother was not only stupid but a fool's errand.

Hank frowned. "I think that's enough personal questions. I have a lot to do today, and even if you're just a temp until Carmen comes back, I can't allow you to slack off. There's a pile of papers Carmen was supposed to sort through on her desk in the open office-area. Since she didn't show, you need to do it instead. I want you to file them from most important to least important. Oh, and get me a coffee. Black. When you're done, go down to the archives and get me all documentation on the company plans for that merger the board has been discussing for two years now – Margaret, who works down there will know which files I mean." And with that, he dismissed her with a wave, and Buffy slowly walked out, not sure if she should be happy or sad she had failed in her mission to somehow wrangle his and Joyce's address from him.

"How did it go?" Lily asked excitedly and Buffy shrugged.

"There is no mini-me running around and he's not married to my mom yet either. But they_ are _engaged. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to get an address. We should go – a whole day of shopping in LA – "

" – What?" Lily interrupted sharply. "You're just giving up when we've gotten this far? This office is _huge _– they probably have employment records with addresses and phone numbers. Let's go." She grabbed Buffy's arm and began to drag her towards the elevator, where she abruptly stopped.

"What is it?" Buffy asked. Lily got a sheepish look on her face.

"I-I kind of need to do something first. See, I saw Carmen the secretary coming your way, so I sort of…stunned her and locked her in a supply closet."

Buffy gawked at her. "What?"

"I panicked!" Lily blurted out as Buffy began to laugh. "I didn't know what to do!"

"You'll have to modify her memory," Buffy said, still grinning, as they moved back towards the supply closet, Lily's face burning. "And I'm _so_ telling James about this. Locking people into closets are such an _immature_ thing to do. He'll be able to tease you about this for weeks!"

Lily groaned.

* * *

After they modified Carmen's memory, brought her out of the supply closet and reversed Lily's stunning spell, Buffy and Lily checked out the office's employment-records. Armed with an address, Buffy and Lily quickly took a cab to the apartment complex that was listed as Hank Summer's home. However, when they knocked on the apartment door, no one opened.

"Perhaps Joyce is at work too," Lily said. "Just because she wasn't working at the museum doesn't mean she's unemployed."

Buffy bit her lip. "Well, we can't exactly wait out here…perhaps an _Alohomora_?"

Lily threw her an aghast look. "We can't break in!" She paused. "Or can we?" She and Buffy gave each other torn looks. Then Buffy raised an eyebrow and smirked. With a whimpering sigh, Lily pulled out her wand and tapped the doorknob, a distressed expression on her face at this act of crime. "My husband is an _Auror._ Albeit an unemployed one._"_ She moaned. "And I'm going around stunning people and modifying their memories and breaking into apartments… I'm never going to be able to lecture him about his marauding _again_ without feeling like a total fraud…"

Buffy laughed as they stepped inside, and froze as she realised this looked like a bachelor-pad. A well-equipped bachelor-pad that looked like it belonged to someone fairly well-off but a bachelor-pad nonetheless. There was no sign of a woman's touch anywhere. "I should have realised," she muttered as she sank down in the black leather couch. "When he said they were engaged but not married, I should have considered the possibility that they didn't live together yet."

Lily wasn't listening. Instead, she lifted her wand. _"Accio _address-book." Nothing happened. "It was worth a try," Lily sighed.

"_Accio_ object with Joyce Summers' address," Buffy said after a moment's though, raising her own wand, not really believing it would work. A sound of a fridge-magnet hit the floor and second later, a small piece of paper came flying from the kitchen, Joyce's address and phone number written down on it. "Huh. Go figure."

* * *

"Hi, Mr. Summers," Carmen said, stepping into Hank's office.

Hank looked surprised to see her. "Carmen. I thought you called in sick?"

Carmen smiled weakly. "I did," She said. "I felt really ill this morning, but when it passed almost immediately, I decided to head in to work. No reason to stay at home if I don't have to, right? Besides, I know you have a meeting with the board this afternoon, which means you need me here to keep your stress level down, your coffee cup filled and all papers sorted."

Hank chuckled. "Well, I am grateful. Grateful and impressed. Very few people have your dedication and work ethic. By the way, did you see the woman they sent me to fill in for you? A Ms. Saunders? She was supposed to get me the files on the merger. And she never came by with my coffee, either..."

"I haven't seen her, I'm sorry," Carmen said, sounding regretful. "I'll get the files for you right away. And your coffee, of course." She grinned at him.

"Thank you," Hank sighed in relief. "And don't forget to – "

" – Sort through the pile on my desk, I know," Carmen finished for him.

Hank let out a relieved sigh. "You're a life-saver."

"I know," Carmen said somewhat smugly. "You probably wouldn't survive without me."

Hank chuckled ruefully. "Probably not." Giving her a thoughtful, considering look, he added: "Why don't you call me Hank? God knows you've worked for me long enough to have earned it."

Carmen blushed. "Oh, well, thank you Mr. S – I mean Hank."

"It's no less than you deserve," Hank said dismissively. "You're the most efficient secretary I've ever had. With your intelligence, it's a wonder you're still here and not running your own business somewhere."

Carmen's blush deepened. "That's very kind of you to say, even though I don't quite believe it. I see all the work you do here every day and I don't think I could manage anywhere near as well."

"I do believe you underestimate yourself, Carmen," Hank said. "I think it's time I got you a raise. And your own private office. It must be exhausting to have to share a space with everyone in the open office."

"It is, actually. My own office – or just a_ cubicle _of my own – would be a dream come true," Carmen said with a slight laugh.

"I'll have it arranged first thing tomorrow," Hank said, then tapped his lips in consideration. "Something is different with you... Is that blouse new?"

"Oh, no, this ratty old thing? Just something I grabbed from the back of my closet," Carmen laughed again.

"It's your hair, then," Hank said decisively. "You've cut it. It suits you."

Her face aflame, Carmen pulled back a strand of errant hair and pushed it behind her ear. "Thank you. I can't believe you noticed I cut my hair... You are a very strange boss, Mr. Sum – Hank," she corrected herself with a self-deprecating grin.

"I'm a very _good_ boss," Hank corrected with a wink. "Now get me that coffee, will you?"

"Yes, sir."

* * *

While the apartment Hank Summers lived in could only be called upscale, in comparison, the place this universe's Joyce called home was only lower middle-class, if that. Staring up at the rather run-down building, Buffy anxiously clenched and unclenched her hands.

"Are you alright, Buffy?"

Buffy shook her head. "I don't know. This was a lousy idea, Lily. This isn't my mother. She may look like her, walk like her, even talk like her, but this Joyce is not my _mom._ What should I even say to her?"

"You'll think of something. You did with Hank," Lily said.

"That was different," Buffy mumbled with a frown. "I'm not carrying any remnant guilt over him. I didn't even think to call him when I was in my old world." She straightened her somewhat slouched posture when she saw Joyce approach her apartment, looking rather drawn and tired. A silver engagement ring gleamed on her left ring-finger, and she was carrying a rather large folder with papers under one arm, and a medium sized box under the other.

As Joyce began to try to pull out something – presumably her keys – from her handbag, Lily pulled out her wand and pointed it at her, mumbling a spell under her breath. "What are you doing?" Buffy hissed, when she saw Lily's spell made Joyce drop the folder, loose papers flying everywhere. On the opposite side of the street, Joyce's shoulders slumped in despair as she tried to chase the papers down.

"Trust me," Lily said and jerked her head in Joyce's direction. "This is a perfect opportunity for you to introduce yourself and offer your aid." Buffy stared at her. "What are you waiting for?"

Eyes widening, Buffy quickly crossed the street, ignoring the angry drivers who honked their horns at her. "Let me get that," Buffy told Joyce, kneeling down on the pavement and quickly gathering up the fluttering papers.

"Oh, thank you!" Joyce gasped. "You really don't have to help me."

"It's no trouble," Buffy said with a grin, handing Joyce the last of the errant pages. "I think that was all of them. I'm Anne," she said, having the sense of not introducing herself as Buffy, in case she came up in a conversation between Hank and Joyce: if Hank's new secretary and Joyce's saving angel both had the same name – especially one as uncommon as Buffy – they were bound to get suspicious.

"Joyce," this version of Buffy's mother said with a slight grin. "You really have no idea how grateful I am for your help – if I lost even one of these pages, especially after the begging I had to do to be allowed to take them home, my boss would kill me."

"Where do you work?" Buffy asked, genuinely curious, since she had not been at the museum.

"I'm a curator at a small art gallery here in LA," Joyce said. "It's kind of funny – I was actually on my way to a job-interview at a museum, but then I sort of stumbled upon the gallery by accident, and I just fell in love with it. So when I heard they had an open position, I decided to apply for that instead. Hank – that's my fiancé – thinks it was foolish to accept a job in a gallery that barely manages to stay afloat financially, but since I want to open an art gallery of my own one day, I thought it would be a good experience."

"Well, I can't say I know much about art, but if you want to run your own gallery, I think you would be good at it," Buffy said. "I mean, taking your work home with you shows dedication." This Joyce may not be her mother, but she acted almost the same as she remembered, and it seemed like she had the same dreams. A dream her mother had fulfilled when she opened an art-gallery upon their move to Sunnydale, and Buffy had no doubt that if this Joyce had anywhere near the same drive, she too would succeed.

Joyce smiled. "Thank you." She paused. "Do you want to come up? I mean, offering you a cup of coffee or something is the least I can do to thank you for helping me."

Buffy grinned. "I would love to, but I'm afraid I have to decline." She was tempted to accept the offer and get a few more minutes with Joyce, but she also knew that would only mean a more painful goodbye, especially if Joyce wanted to keep in touch. And a visit to her apartment might even turn out awkward, as Buffy didn't want to lie about herself. This way - a short meeting and a pleasant conversation before going their separate ways - was better.

Just seeing Joyce happy and healthy was closure enough – it wasn't the same as if she had been able to do it with her real mother, of course – but it was enough. She wished she could somehow warn this Joyce about the brain tumour that had killed her mother, but knew there was no way of doing so without frightening her. And there was no guarantee it had even surfaced yet, or that it would at all. Perhaps she could look her up again in a few years and write an anonymous letter, or make an anonymous call that would make Joyce go and get herself checked out. "My friend is waiting for me across the street, and we were sort of going somewhere – "

Joyce gasped. "Oh, I'm so sorry I've kept you held up."

Buffy laughed. "Don't worry about it. I consider this my Samaritan deed of the day."

Joyce smiled. "Well, if you ever do find yourself with some time left over, you know where I live."

"I do." Buffy grinned slightly, an impish glint appearing in her eyes as she got an idea. "And, you know, if you really want to thank me, if you ever have a child, you could name her after me."

It was Joyce's turn to laugh. "I might just do that. I must admit that I've always liked the name 'Anne.'"

Buffy and Joyce said goodbye, and Buffy watched as Joyce entered her apartment, before running back across the streets – one again ignoring the angry drivers – to Lily, who gave her a worried look that immediately faded when she saw Buffy's smile.

"Let's go shopping, shall we?" Buffy said, latching onto one of Lily's arms. "By the way, Lily, I must say I am really digging the ways you are abusing your magic on this trip..."

* * *

**14 February**

Two days later, Buffy and Lily were both tired of shopping and partying in LA. "I miss Harry," Lily sighed. "And James. It's Valentine's day today and here we are, two girls in steady relationships, in America with an entire ocean between us and our respective others."

Buffy wrinkled her nose slightly. "Yes, I didn't really take Valentine's day into account when I planned this vacation," she admitted.

"I want a kiss from my husband," Lily moaned. "And a hug and a smile from Harry. He's growing so quickly! What if I'm missing his first words?" She threw Buffy a panicked look.

"Of course you're not," Buffy said soothingly. "And we're going back first thing tomorrow. Right now, however, I want to check out some cemeteries. For nostalgias sake," she added when she saw Lily's look.

"I thought this was a vacation to get away from the war," she said.

"A Slayer never takes a vacation," Buffy said. "Besides, patrolling can be kind of relaxing sometimes."

"I'll take your word for it," Lily said.

* * *

After a patrol through the nearest cemetery, during which Buffy and Lily disposed of three vampires (Buffy killed two, Lily one), they were both ready to head back to their hotel. Just as they were about to leave, however, they caught sight of a middle-aged man dressed in a fine suit. The man was accompanied by a much younger teenage boy whom they both recognised from Marlene's memory they watched with Dumbledore's pensieve.

"Is that – "

"Joshua the Vampire Slayer," Buffy finished with a sigh. "I can't believe we're actually running into him without even trying."

Just then, both men caught sight of them and approached with a frown. "You shouldn't be here," the older man – presumably Joshua's Watcher – told them as they approached. "Cemeteries are not a place for young women at night."

"We can handle ourselves," Buffy said airily and pulled out her stake from behind her back, twirling it nonchalantly between her fingers.

The Watcher blanched while Joshua's eyebrow rose. "Do you even know how to handle that thing?" He asked arrogantly. "Or know what it's for?"

"Do you?" Buffy countered. "And it's certainly not used to build tiny little fences with."

"It seems you are aware of the creatures of the night," the Watcher said cautiously, clearly not trusting them. "Do you want to tell us how?"

"Sure," Buffy said easily. "Lily here is a witch and I'm the Slayer. Or_ a_ Slayer, I suppose," she added with a pointed look at Joshua, who snorted as he looked her up and down, not impressed in the least.

"You can't be the Slayer, because the title – destiny included - is already taken. By me."

"Aww, didn't your Watcher teach you how to share?" Buffy said sweetly. "Anyway, I guess you were wrong. I believe you ran into a friend of ours in England – Marlene McKinnon? You saved her and her daughter from a vampire that broke into their house. She told you about me, didn't she?"

The Watcher didn't seem to know what to think, looking utterly bewildered, while Joshua's eyes narrowed. "And just like I told her, the Slayer is always _male,_ which makes your statement ludicrous. I could kick your arse without even trying."

"You wish," Buffy scoffed. "I would have you on the ground in ten seconds, tops."

"Bring it on," Joshua said snottily. Less than a second later, Joshua and Buffy met in a flurry of kicks and hits, both Slayers determined to make the other lose. Exactly eight seconds later, Joshua found his breath leave him as he was slammed into the ground, seeing stars quite literally as ended up on his back, his face turned up to the night-sky.

Triumphant, Buffy placed a boot on top of his chest. "Who was it that could kick whose ass again?"

"Impossible," the Watcher breathed out as Buffy took her foot away. Two seconds later, Joshua found himself back on the ground as he tried to surprise her by throwing himself at her when she looked away.

"Do yourself a favour and don't embarrass yourself even more," Buffy told him.

"How can this be?" the Watcher asked, amazed.

"It's a long and complicated story, involving a trip through a portal," Buffy said. "Needless to say, this is not the dimension I was born in."

Behind her, Joshua was getting to his feet, his eyes wide and fixated on Buffy, his expression one of shock mixed with reluctant admiration.

"What you're saying..." the Watcher breathed. "You're from another world entirely?"

Buffy shrugged. "A parallel one, I think. A lot is the same, but a lot is different too."

"And in this world you're from...the Slayer is a girl?"

"Always," Buffy said with a smirk.

"Well, this certainly changes things." The Watcher stuck out his hand, looking rather pompous. "Phillip Galloway, Watcher's Council operative, currently assigned as Joshua's Watcher."

"Buffy Summers, Slayer, witch and overall amazing," Buffy said, accepting the handshake with a grin. "This is Lily Potter, also a witch and my best friend."

"Isn't this extraordinary, Joshua?" Phillip remarked. Joshua grimaced but seemed slightly less hostile and more intrigued, giving Buffy a second once over that was a lot less dismissive than his first.

"I guess."

"I must ask," Phillip said, "is your stay here permanent, or is there anything we can do to help you back to your own world? If you are here, is it without a Slayer?"

"The Fates are kind of responsible for me being here," Buffy said. "They've placed me here permanently. And my world is safe – there is already another Slayer there... Hey,

you wouldn't happen to know if a Rupert Giles and Wesley Wyndam-Pryce are members of your Watcher's Council? Giles was my Watcher back in my world and Wesley is the Watcher of the other Slayer there now."

Phillip let an eyebrow rise. _"Roger _Wyndam-Pryce is a senior Watcher... I know he has a young son called Wesley, though – during our last gathering, Roger told a rather humorous tale about the boy attempting to resurrect a dead bird." Phillip chuckled as Buffy jerked back in shock. "From your reaction, I assume he is an adult in your universe? That is simply fascinating."

Buffy nodded, inwardly frowning as she realised she had temporarily forgotten that this world was twenty-one years behind her own, which meant Wesley was still a child, and Giles should only be around twenty-seven... "What about Giles?"

"The name sounds familiar..." Phillip frowned. "Ah, yes, now I remember. Horrible business – the man dropped out of the Council and began to delve into Dark Arts. He was killed after he and a group of 'friends' were foolish enough to summon a particularly nasty demon called Eyghon the Sleepwalker."

Buffy nodded, her face pale at the realisation that unlike in her world, Giles hadn't been able to escape Eyghon and return to the Watcher's Academy. Absently, she wondered if Ethan Rayne had suffered the same fate, or if he had survived and was now worshipping Chaos somewhere, like in her universe. Lily put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"He became a Watcher in your world, you say? Things are getting more interesting by the minute." Phillip chuckled, not noticing Buffy's distress. "Well, I am really interested in hearing how you ended up here, and of course, more about the differences between our worlds. What I've already heard is simply riveting! And you said you are a witch as well?"

"Yes," Lily spoke up for the first time. "We both live in Wizarding Britain."

Phillip's demeanour became slightly less pleasant as his lips curled. "I see. Well, the Watcher's Council has distanced itself from the Wizarding World."

"Yes, that's what Joshua told Marlene," Buffy said, pulling herself together. This world's Giles might be dead, but _her _Giles was alive and well in her original universe. She hadn't actually _lost_ _him._ "However, there is a war going on against a Dark Lord right now. We could really use the help of another Slayer."

"I don't believe you've told me of a meeting with this Marlene, Joshua," Phillip said disapprovingly.

Joshua shrugged, looking away for a second. Almost immediately however, his eyes were drawn to Buffy's form again. "It didn't seem important. She belonged to the Wizarding World, after all."

"I see." Phillip frowned. "Well, Ms. Summers, it was nice meeting you, however, I will not send my Slayer to deal with a war on Wizarding turf. Your Dark Lord is not our problem."

"But he is using Vampires and dark creatures to do his dirty work," Buffy pointed out.

"And I'm sure you witches and wizards are more than capable of handling them. The rest of the world, however, is defenceless," Phillip stated coolly.

"Won't you at least meet with our leader?" Lily asked.

"It can't do any harm," Joshua said suddenly, surprising both Buffy and Lily, since they hadn't expected a change of heart from him. "It's not like we're committing to anything - or dealing with anything else at the moment."

Phillip frowned. Buffy watched in interest at the seemingly silent conversation that was taking place between the Watcher and his Slayer, a flurry of expressions flying across their faces as their eyes met. Their relationship didn't seem quite as close as her own with Giles had ended up being, but still a lot closer than she had thought. It was clearly a professional relationship, she mused silently, but there was also mutual respect between them, where both listened to the other.

"Very well," Phillip finally said. "We will meet your 'leader,' if only because I am interested in learning more about you, Ms. Summers. As, I believe, is Joshua." Joshua blushed, his cheeks turning a flaming red.

When Buffy and Lily left the cemetery, after giving Phillip and Joshua her address in Britain where they would meet with the Order in two days, Lily leaned in her head towards Buffy's ear and whispered: "Joshua certainly had a change of tune. I think he fancies you."

"What?" Buffy jerked back in shock. "No way!"

"Yes way," Lily said with a giggle. "I think it's because you kicked his arse so easily. He probably finds the thought of an older, stronger woman hot and sexy. Did you see the way he blushed?"

"Oh, eew, Lily!" Buffy whined. "Now I'm not even going to be able to look at him without wondering if he's having _thoughts _about me!"

Lily's pearly laugh echoed across the cemetery.

* * *

**15 February **

Lily let out a happy sigh as she entered Godric's Hollow the next evening and was met by her husband's warm and welcoming embrace. "Glad to be home?" James murmured in her ear.

Lily nodded. "I missed you and Harry. I had a great time though."

She pulled away from James and immediately grinned down at Harry who had come crawling into the hall with his father. "Hi Harry! Mommy is home now!"

Harry lifted two of his arms, wordlessly asking to be picked up. Dropping her bags, Lily was more than happy to hug her son to her chest. "Mommy missed you very much," she said, placing a kiss in his hair.

"Mama."

Lily and James both froze, exchanging looks of shocked surprise. "What was that Harry?" Lily asked, her voice trembling as she looked down at her son.

Harry grinned at her. "Mama," he said again and Lily nearly burst into tears of joy and hugged Harry even tighter to her chest.

"Oh, Harry," she breathed. "Your first word! I'm so proud!"

"Can you say 'dada'?" James asked hopefully. Harry looked up at him blankly. "Come on, Harry! Say 'dada'!"

Harry only burrowed closer to Lily's chest and Lily smirk at James. "It seems he likes me better."

James pouted. "Harry, come on," he almost whined. "Don't let your mommy taunt me like this! Haven't you and I had some great, fun days together? _Educational _days? Surely you can say 'dada' by now?"

Harry blinked. "Pafa," he finally said.

James beamed. "He said PAPA!"

Lily let an eyebrow rise. "I think he said Padfoot," she smirked.

James gasped, offended. "Lily, don't be mean! He clearly said 'Papa.' Harry, help your old man out and tell her. Say 'Papa' – loud and clear, don't be shy..."

"Dada!"

"Yes!" James exclaimed, placing a firm kiss on Harry's forehead. "You're such a good boy, Harry! Such a smart boy!"

"He doesn't seem to want to follow your instructions, though," Lily smirked. "I mean... 'pafa' when you wanted him to say 'dada' and 'dada' when you wanted him to say 'papa.'"

"Details," James huffed. "He said dada and that's all that matters."

"It still doesn't solve the mystery of what 'pafa' means though."

"Pafoo," Harry said clearly. "Papa. Dada. Mama."

Lily and James could only blink at each other. "Well," James said. "Since he can clearly pronounce 'Papa' and 'Pafoo,' I can only come to the conclusion 'Pafa' is something else entirely."

Lily grinned. "You're such a clever boy, Harry! Four words!"

"Of which only _one_ is a word for mother," James said smugly. "While he used _two_ for father."

"That's just because you've been coaching him on it the entire time I was gone," Lily threw him an unimpressed look.

James smug grin faltered. "How did you know?"

"_Educational days?" _She echoed. "Very subtle, James. Give me some credit – I'm not an idiot, even though I sometimes think I married one." James pouted and Lily smiled, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his lips. "I still love you though."

James grinned.

* * *

**Trivia**

- In 1998, Joss Whedon stated that Sunnydale is near Santa Barbara, which is where Buffy's statement that Sunnydale is near there comes from. Also, many clues about Sunnydale's location in BTVS have been given in the series, among them maps that show Sunnydale being where Santa Barbara is in reality, for example in season three and four.

- In ATS 4x15: Orpheus, we learn that after Angel witnessed a robbery in New York during the late 1970s, Angel succumbed to his bloodthirst and fed on the body of a shot employee. Disgusted by himself, Angel fled the shop and began feeding off of a rat. Since Whistler also mentions this particular eating habit as a regular part of his existence during 1996 when they meet (BTVS 2x21: Becoming, part 1), I assume feeding off of rats is also pretty much everything he did during the 1980s.

- After his divorce from Joyce in canon BTVS, Hank Summers often spends father/daughter weekends with Buffy. It is only during season three and after that Hank begins to turn into a rather deadbeat and unreliable dad, that begins with him cancelling on Buffy when he was supposed to take her to an ice-show for her eighteenth birthday. Since this Buffy left her world after season two, her father never made a bad impression on her, which is why her memories of him are still mostly good.

- In BTVS canon, Buffy states her parents' divorce is mostly her father's fault for cheating on her mother. It is also stated in the show that Hank Summers eventually moves to Spain with his secretary. That little scene between Hank and Carmen was meant to hint at the possibility of an affair between them in the future. Even though it is another universe, some things, unfortunately, are meant to stay the same...

- Buffy's mother really did own her own art gallery in Sunnydale, and Buffy's middle name is Anne. And since Hank likes the name Buffy, and if Joyce remembers her conversation with her good Samaritan, there might end up being another Buffy Anne Summers in this universe a few years down the road after all. One who won't ever be called as the Slayer and has a chance to a normal life – a normal life that will probably include divorced parents and a father who moves to Spain with his secretary, just as in BTVS canon.

- In canon, Buffy's mother dies from complications after a brain-tumor (5x16: The Body) , which is why Buffy wants to warn this version of her to get herself checked out, so that if this Joyce suffers/end up suffering from the same condition, doctors can catch the tumor earlier, and hopefully prevent her death from occurring in this universe as well.

- "Certainly not used to build tiny little fences with" - Buffy's quote here is a reference to BTVS 1x1: _Welcome to the Hellmouth_, wherein Xander has no idea what Buffy's stake is for, but thinks she might be building a really little fence.

- Phillip Galloway, Joshua's Watcher: in the two BTVS episodes _Checkpoint_ (5x12) and _Never Leave Me _(7x9), there is a Watcher called Phillip. Joshua's Watcher is meant to be an alternate version of him.

- The timeline difference: 1981 here: 2002 there. Since Buffy was born in 1981, that means Willow and Xander would be infants or not even born which is why Buffy doesn't check in on their versions while in Sunnydale.

- I decided Wesley was 25 in BTVS s. 3, which means he was born in 1974, making him 7 here, which fits neatly into the story of his attempt to resurrect a dead bird, which Wesley attempted at that age, as learned in ATS 5x7: Lineage, during which we also get to meet his father, Roger Wyndam-Pryce, also a member of the Watcher Council – or rather, a mystical robot-version of him.

- As for Giles, he was born in 1954, making him 27 years old here. In canon, we learn that Giles dropped out of the Council and began to delve into Dark Arts alongside Ethan Rayne (who first appeared in BTVS Halloween). He only returned to the Watcher's Council in 1980, after three of his friends were killed by the demon Eyghon (who makes an appearance in BTVS 2x8: The Dark Age, where we also learn more about this part of Giles dark past) which they had summoned. Here, Giles was killed, and thus, never got the chance to return.


	19. Marauders

DISCLAIMER_  
_This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**16 February **

"You found the Slayer?" Dumbledore sounded both amazed and overjoyed.

"The_ other_ Slayer," Buffy corrected, not happy to be practically overlooked. "And his Watcher."

"And you managed to convince them to help?" Edgar asked.

"I managed to convince them to _meet us," _Buffy corrected. "They should be here any second. But don't go getting your hopes up. They might say no."

"Well, no use sitting around doing nothing while we wait," Frank said logically. "Do we have anything new to discuss?"

"Igor Karkaroff," Moody said loudly, standing up and slapping down a file on Remus and Buffy's kitchen table. "Mid- to high level Death Eater, responsible for several gruesome muggle deaths from the past two years – all unsolved within the muggle authorities of course. And when I say 'gruesome,' I mean really nasty. And that's coming from me and I don't exactly have a weak stomach."

"How do you know it's the work of a Death Eater and not some psychotic muggle?" Caradoc asked. "For that matter, how do you know Karkaroff is the wizard responsible?"

"Caught on the scene of the crime by some rookie Aurors, before he apparated away," Moody answered with a twisted smile. "Of course, Karkaroff wasn't solely responsible – he had help. Dolohov, among others, or so I've heard from some sources of mine. I have no proof of that, however."

"Are your sources trustworthy?" Emmeline Vance asked.

Moody snorted. "Trustworthy? Hardly. Can I trust them to tell _me_ the truth? Oh, yes."

"Okay," Benjy said. "So we know Karkaroff is a Death Eater with a penchant for muggle torture and murder. How do we find him and bring him to the Ministry? Should we let the Aurors handle it?"

"They are," Moody said. "Or rather, _I _am. After getting some help in tracking down his home-address," he cast an imperceptible glance at Dorcas, "I managed to break down the wards with some curse-breakers ten days ago."

"So he's been caught," Elphias Doge spoke in his wheezy voice. "Then why bring him up if he's no longer a problem?"

"Because by the time we entered his home, he was gone," Moody spat. "Crouch was not happy. He wants results. I've been put in charge of a task-force that's to bring Karkaroff in, no matter what it takes. It's a full-time job, and I'm only going to have time to attend a few meetings until after I've caught him."

"An entire task-force, just to catch one Death Eater?" Gideon asked sceptically.

"That sounds like a rather large waste of resources," Fabian added.

"It is," Frank said with a frown and Moody nodded.

"But like I said, Crouch wants results – or rather, he wants to be able to show the public that he's doing something and assure them that we are winning the war."

"Even when we're not," Sirius said disgustedly. "Well, what about the rest of the Death Eaters, then? Can't anything be done about them?"

"They're too well hidden," Dorcas said grimly. Peter and several looked surprised that she would know this, and she blushed, having forgotten for a moment that not all of the Order knew that she was spying on Voldemort. "I-I mean it makes sense," she hastily added. "You-Know-Who won't risk the capture of any of his high-level Death Eaters – I bet not even his followers are told were to find each other." And they weren't, Dorcas thought to herself. It was only luck that allowed her to find Karkaroff's home – luck, and Severus, who was already proving himself a better spy than she was. "Our only chance at getting to them is if we catch them during an attack or something."

"Well, I wish you luck, then, Alastor," Dumbledore said. "And I sincerely hope you manage to bring Karkaroff in."

Moody nodded sharply, just as there was a knock on the door. "I'll get it," Buffy said smoothly, standing up and walking to the hall. Soon, low voices of greetings drifted in to the kitchen, and then she re-entered, followed by Joshua and his Watcher, Phillip, who stared at the Order dispassionately. Joshua was trying to follow his lead, it seemed, but every now and then, his glance would drift over to Buffy.

"Allow me to introduce you to Joshua, a Vampire Slayer, and his Watcher, Phillip Galloway," Buffy said before retaking her seat beside Remus who put an arm around her, perhaps sensing Joshua's interest. The boy frowned at him slightly, then turned to whispered something to his Watcher whose lips twisted in displeasure.

"You want us to aid you in your fight against this Dark Lord," Phillip spoke, "and yet you ally yourselves with Dark Creatures? My Slayer can sense the wrongness reeking from him," he nodded towards Remus. "He's not human."

Remus' fists clenched. "I'm a werewolf, if that's what you mean," he said. "However, I must protest your statement that somehow makes me less than human. I made the choice to stand with the light despite my nature. Don't judge someone for what they are, but for who they are," he finished with a slight growl.

Phillip let an eyebrow rise, his expression saying he would be keeping an eye on him. "I will," he said coolly.

"I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot," Dumbledore said diplomatically. "My name is Albus Dumbledore – "

"We know who you are," Phillip interrupted snottily. Dumbledore looked taken aback. "Once Miss Summers and her companion told us of your Order and the name of its leader, we naturally contacted the Watcher's Council for all the information they had on you. Joshua and I do not like to walk into a situation unprepared. They told us a lot of...interesting things."

"Only good things, I hope," Dumbledore chuckled.

"Hardly. Is it true you were once an ally and lover of Gellert Grindelwald, the last Dark Lord your Wizarding World fought? And is there any truth to the rumours that you killed your own sister?"

Dumbledore's amiable smile abruptly faded as the Order let out simultaneous gasps of shock. "While I admit I was once a..._friend _of Gellert, I was also the one who defeated him after he turned onto his dark path," Dumbledore said stiffly. "And as for Ariana, my sister..." He swallowed, his blue eyes filled with emotion, "what happened to her was a tragic accident. We all have a past."

"Indeed," Phillip said coolly, and then turned to Buffy. "And yours, Miss Summers, sounds most interesting. Both Joshua, the Watcher's Council and myself are more than eager to hear your story. Once we've heard it, we shall make a decision as to whether we will aid you in your fight against this Dark Lord Voldemort."

Buffy grinned widely – perhaps too widely. "It will be my pleasure to tell you all about it," she said - and inwardly began to heavily edit her life's story. She had a feeling neither Joshua nor his Watcher would be very impressed to hear about her sordid love-affair with a vampire, ensouled or not. Or her friendship with 'civilians' like Willow and Xander. Or the many times she broke the Slayer handbook. And of course, the fact she hadn't read the handbook at all was a definite minus in her factor.

Unfortunately enough for Buffy, her life-story was very hard to tell without any mention of Willow, Xander or Angel, and though she didn't mean to, their involvement soon slipped out. Phillip began to look more and more unimpressed as the story went on, while Joshua, to Buffy's surprise, seemed fascinated.

"...So I said goodbye to everyone, and then the Fates sent Remus and myself back here. For good," Buffy said, having ended her story with her temporary return to Sunnydale with Remus.

"A fascinating story," Phillip said with pursed lips.

Joshua nodded enthusiastically, not noticing his Watcher's disapproval. "Yeah! Did you really tell the Master he had _fruit punch mouth? _Where do you get your puns from?_"_

Buffy grinned. "It's all about quick thinking and improvisation. You however, clearly need more practice. _Mythtaken, _really?"

Joshua blushed. "I thought it was witty," he muttered.

"I think we've heard all we need to," Phillip said, standing up from his chair. "Come on, Joshua. Let's go."

Joshua's eyes widened. "What? We're not going to help them?"

"No. We gave them a chance to convince us we should, and they failed," Phillip said shortly. "Not only do they associate themselves with Dark Creatures," he threw a look at Remus, "miss Summers here seem to prefer_ laying _with them rather than _slaying_ them," he threw a distasteful look at Buffy who could feel herself redden. "She has already died once and gotten another Slayer killed." Buffy flinched at the brutal reminder of her failure to save Kendra, something that haunted her to this day. "It is clear whatever forces that have kept her alive this long is associated with _luck _rather than talent, especially considering her penchant to bring civilians into her duties as a Slayer. And speaking of civilians, Mr. Dumbledore, your entire Order is littered with people with little to no fighting experience." He threw a disdainful look at the Order as a whole. "Add to that your own rather sordid past which you hide like a shameful secret, this organisation is not one I would like to be a part of."

Joshua stood as well, but to Buffy's surprise, he made no move to follow his Watcher who was already halfway out of the room. "They might have failed to convince _you,"_ he said, his voice surprisingly soft, "but they did convince _me. _I want to help them. It's the right thing to do."

Phillip's eyes widened in shock. "Joshua, I am your Watcher, and I am telling you we are leaving. _Now._ These people are nothing but trouble."

"And I am your Slayer, and it is a Slayer's job to fight the forces of darkness. This Voldemort is clearly one of them, and I'm staying. If you want to do your job and watch over me, you'll have to stay too."

"How dare you defy me like this?" Phillip sounded shocked, and not a little hurt.

Joshua's chin rose. "You taught me to do what was right and to follow my instincts. Well, my instincts are telling me to stay."

Phillip's eyes narrowed. "Your teenage _hormones _are telling you to stay," he countered. "Ever since you met Miss Summers two days ago, she's been all you can talk about." His eyes softened slightly when Joshua flushed. "She's another Slayer – I understand why you feel drawn to her. But while her destiny may have led her to fight this Voldemort, yours lie elsewhere. There are a lot of evil in the world, Joshua. Evil not centred on Wizarding Britain and it is your duty to destroy it."

"And I will," Joshua said. _"After_ I've helped these people kill Voldemort." He looked down. "You've always been there for me, Phillip. And I don't want to stay here alone. But I will if I have to."

Phillip's shoulders slumped, and all the fight seemed to leave him. "Of course you won't have to," he muttered, sinking back into his chair. "But of all the times you decide to stop listening to me, did this have to be it? If we get involved in this...in this war, you do realise there is only so much I can do to protect you? I am out of my depth here, Joshua, and even if you do not believe me, so are you."

"I know," Joshua said, to Phillip's surprise. "You might think I'm naive, and perhaps I am, but I'm not stupid. I know this will dangerous. But I'm willing to take the chance. And not only because of my teenage hormones," he added with a small smirk.

It took a few seconds, but then Phillip smiled, and he nodded tersely. "Very well. But I have conditions. We will attend your little..._get-togethers_ - " some of the Order members bristled at his condescending tone, "but do not summon us for battle unless there are dark creatures involved. We are not equipped or trained to handle wizards. Is this acceptable to you?"

"It is," Dumbledore said graciously.

"Joshua?" Phillip asked, his eyebrow raised when it looked like his Slayer was about to protest his Watcher's decision, but after awhile, Joshua nodded.

"Fine," he said, but from the look on his face, it seemed like Joshua was more than willing to fight both wizards and witches. "But if I get a shot at Voldemort, I'll take it."

"Very well," Phillip rolled his eyes, giving Joshua an indulgent little smile. Then, he turned to Dumbledore. "It seems we are in, after all."

* * *

"Another Slayer?" Voldemort said slowly as he looked down on Peter's kneeling form. The traitorous Order member nodded eagerly.

"Yes. A male Slayer, named Joshua, who originates from this universe."

"And why are you only coming to me with this now?" the Dark Lord asked coldly and Peter shivered. "From what you're telling me, knowledge of this...Joshua...was given to the Order well over _a month ago."_

Peter flinched. "I-I didn't think it mattered until now. H-he clearly had no interest in getting involved with the war – I-I didn't think he posed a threat."

"In the future, _do not think," _the Dark Lord hissed, while putting Peter under a different curse than the Cruciatus: this one made his body sizzle and burn, smoke rising from the skin. Peter screamed. "It is not your job to decide what is and what is not important for me to know – it is only to pass along all the information you gain from the Order! Tell, me Wormtail, what use are you to me, if you cannot even follow basic instructions?!" Angry, he lifted the curse, and Peter fell to the floor, sniffing and crying.

"N-none, my Lord," he managed to stutter out.

"Exactly. Tell me, Pettigrew, why I should spare your life?"

"I-I am doing my best, my Lord!" Peter cried. "I-I swear, I'll do better!"

"And so your pathetic snivelling begins anew." Voldemort cracked his neck. "I am getting rather tired of your bad, repetitive habits." Leaning back into his chair, he closed his eyes. "Leave me."

Peter's head snapped open. "Y-you're not going to kill me?" He stammered out.

The Dark Lord clenched his fists, blue veins standing out in sharp relief against his pale, nearly white skin. "Not yet, though I may change my mind rather quickly unless you LEAVE!"

Jumping up, Peter ran out of the throne-room, the door slamming shut behind him. Voldemort breathed in and out slowly through his nose, feeling a pounding headache coming on. "Another Slayer..." he whispered to himself. "How...very interesting."

His plans to capture and drain Buffy Summers of her Slayer powers and take them for his own were discarded and replaced with new plans. This new Slayer – Joshua – not only was he male, but he was also from this dimension. There was no doubt in the Dark Lord's mind that his powers would be far more potent and compatible with himself than those of Buffy Summers. Voldemort smiled to himself. And by taking this new Slayer's powers for his own, there would be no need to keep that annoying blonde dimension-travelling American alive any longer...

* * *

**19 March**

"Hey, Peter, glad you could make it!" James said jovially, grinning at his friend as he entered the muggle pub the four marauders had decided to meet up in for some quality time among friends, away from the pressures and stress of the war.

Peter smiled back. "I wouldn't miss this. It's been awhile since it was just us." A regretful expression soon appeared on his face though. "But tonight is the only night I can make it, I'm afraid – you'll have to do without me after."

James stared at him. "What? Wormtail, I've planned this getaway for over a month! You can't back out now!"

Peter just shrugged. "I'm sorry, Prongs – something came up at the last second."

"What's happened, Peter?" Remus asked, a worried frown between his eyebrows.

"Yeah, is it work trouble or girl trouble?" James asked with a smirk.

Peter flushed. "None of your business," he muttered.

James' smirk widened. "Girl trouble, then," he summarized.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Oh, stop teasing him. Sit down and have a drink, Pete," he added, pulling out a chair for Peter.

"So what are we going to do during this little 'vacation' of yours, Prongs?" Sirius drawled. "Considering you've planned it for over a month and have refused to give us so much as a hint, it better be spectacular."

James grinned, holding up his bottle of beer in a mock-toast. "It is, Padfoot, my friend, it is."

* * *

A couple of hours later, the four marauders stumbled out of the pub, all of them more or less intoxicated, Peter, who fell into the 'more' category, was leaning heavily on Sirius' shoulder, looked up blearily. "What time izzit?"

"Early, my dear Wormtail," James said happily. "The night has only just begun!"

"Merlin help us," Remus mumbled while checking his watch to give Peter an actual answer. "It's nearly midnight, Worms."

Peter blinked. "Oh…that's no good, izzit?" He muttered, his skin slowly taking on a green tinge. "I wazz zure I 'ad an appointmint – no, appointment – blergh - "

The other three marauders wrinkled their noses as Peter threw up in the gutter.

"Gross, Wormtail," Sirius shuddered.

"Sorry," Peter croaked out, slowly straightening up. "Gotto go. Or he'll be _pissed."_ He began to giggle.

"_You're_ the one who's pissed, Wormtail," James stated. "And who's _he?"_

Peter blinked up at him stupidly. "Who's who?" Suddenly, he tensed up, his eyes widening. "Bye!" And with that, he spun around – though it looked more like a drunken twirl – and disappeared with a loud crack.

"Did he just disapparate?" James asked incredulously. "He's drunk off his arse!"

Sirius, in the meantime, was busy inspecting the spot where Peter had disappeared. "Like I thought – he splinched himself – I'm pretty sure I'm looking at his toenails. And some of his hair. Lots of it."

James sniggered. "He's going to have one hell of a bald spot."

"And that's not even mentioning the poor bastards hangover," Sirius grinned widely. "I don't envy him the pain."

* * *

"PLEASE, STOP! I'M SORRY!"

"No apologies will be enough this time, Wormtail," the Dark Lord hissed, increasing the power of his Cruciatus curse which had met Peter upon his drunken, stumbling arrival to the Dark Lord's chambers. "I am tired of your failures."

Peter, completely sober once more (uninterrupted, torturous, nerve wracking pain would do that to you), sobbed. "I'm sorry. I-I was with m-my friends. Keeping my cover! I had to drink…"

Voldemort lifted the curse, his red eyes blazing. The Death Eaters – all belonging to Voldemort's most inner circle – stood around them, holding their breaths, eagerly anticipating whatever the Dark Lord would do next. "I am tired of your excuses. I am tired of your presence. Bella!"

Peter's eyes widened in terror as Bellatrix stepped forward, her eyes gleeful. "Yes, master?"

"I believe our dear Wormtail could use a lesson on punctuality," Voldemort said, then winced as Peter threw up in front of his boots. "Add _proper decorum_ to that lesson."

"Yes, master."

"And make sure it is well learnt," the Dark Lord hissed.

Bellatrix curtsied and left the chambers, dragging Peter behind her by the remnants of his hair, the traitorous marauder pleading and begging all the while for the Dark Lord to have mercy. "Come along, Wormy," she said brightly. "You and I are going to have such _fun!"_ The heavy doors swung close behind them, leaving silence in their wake.

Voldemort sank down on his throne, not at all surprised to feel his head throbbing - Pettigrew's presence never failed to induce a migraine, and not for the first time did he begin to regret ever recruiting the pathetic animagus. "Leave me."

The remaining Death Eaters exchanged looks, before they quickly filed out of the room, the inner circle more than well acquainted with what happened unless you obeyed the Dark Lord immediately.

Massaging his temples, Voldemort pushed aside the thought of Pettigrew's lack of use and instead began to plot, something which never failed to put a smile on his face.

Thanks to the Pensieve Lucius had acquired for him, he had managed to decipher much of the rest of the book, despite Regulus' untimely interference. He now knew that to unlock the power source he needed blood from three of the living blood relatives of those who have had the book in their possession. It would be easy for him to find someone from the Black bloodline – he had several options: Narcissa and Bellatrix were two, and the most convenient. He also knew of Eliza de Mort, the daughter to the French woman Regulus' had stolen the book from, and how to get hold of her: after all, she was an Order member. And for the third person, he could use himself, though he would only do that as a last resort, of course.

All he was missing to unlock the power source was the four symbols. He had the orb from the lake in Italy. He knew that the second symbol would be somewhere in a meadow, and with the 'help' of the cartographer, he had narrowed its location down to somewhere in Eastern Europe, either in Greece, Albania or Yugoslavia. The third location was, however, a complete unknown: all he knew was that the symbol could be found in or on a mountain. And unfortunately, due to Regulus' interference and theft, he had no idea where the forth symbol - the rock – was. But if Regulus truly had destroyed it like he said he did, perhaps the power source would somehow make an exception. And in any case, Voldemort thought, his thin lips curling in contentment, three was a more magical number than four.

What he needed to do now was to figure out the last location – the mountain – and of course, the place of the power source itself. And then, he would be unstoppable. The power source combined with his secret diary Horcrux, which no one knew about, would make sure of it. The Dark Lord tapped his fingers against his armrest.

Once, when he knew less than he did now, when he had naively thought it was his only option, he had considered making more than one Horcrux. He had aimed for seven, but once he learned of the negative side effects, and of the power source as a safer – but no less ambitious – alternative, he had decided to focus his energy on that instead. After all, why should he only aim for immortality when he could become all-powerful as well in one swoop? Still, his diary Horcrux was a nice backup to have in case something unforeseen should happen before he found the power source.

No one else had gone to the lengths he had. No one else had delved as deep as he had. No one else was willing to take the steps he was willing to take. No one else had the power, knowledge or dedication to do so. "Travers!" He shouted, and the Death Eater stepped inside.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Bring the cartographer here," Voldemort said. "I find myself suddenly…impatient, and I am in need of his expertise."

Travers bowed and quickly left the room to find the cartographer. Satisfied his command was being followed, the Dark Lord leaned back to wait. Soon he would have the exact location of the meadow, the mountain…and then the power source – and with it, ultimate control.

* * *

**20 March**

"This is so wrong," Remus moaned to his friends, all of them fighting for fit under James' invisibility cloak: if Peter had been with them as well, they wouldn't have managed, and as it was, they had been forced to disillusion their lower legs and feet.

"And so awesome," Sirius sniggered.

"You're going to make him twice as paranoid," Remus hissed.

"Which is half the fun," James grinned. "Oh, come on, Moony – lighten up! Are you a marauder or not?"

"Yeah, stop being such a wet blanket," Sirius sniggered, while charming the muggle fireworks to float over and settle behind the bushes in Mad-Eye Moody's yard. "Besides, we're doing him a favour: the bushes will doubtlessly burn up, ergo, there will be less hiding places for any actual attackers in the future."

"I bet he sleeps with his wand under his pillow," James whispered, his hazel eyes bright with glee. For the first time in a long time, he felt relaxed. Here, with his friends, all the pressure was off and he could just push aside his worries and have fun – immature fun, but fun nonetheless.

Remus sighed, seeing he was not going to be able to convince his two friends this was a bad idea – and despite himself excited and glad he had been invited along – and decided to stop worrying about morals and just give in and have fun. Just like old times… "…You should place one in the chimney."

James and Sirius stared at him, shocked. And then they grinned. "I knew you couldn't resist the temptation of being bad," James chuckled.

"Yeah, well, don't mention it. _Ever."_

Two minutes later, as the fireworks went off and set fire to the bushes and lit up the sky, Mad-Eye Moody came running out, dressed in his pyjama bottoms, cursing, his wand sending spells everywhere, convinced he was under attack.

Behind a tree, the three marauders, under a silencing spell, were laughing their arses off, their hilarity increasing when Sirius made Moody's dustbins dance, and the paranoid Auror started cursing the metal containers, convinced Death Eaters were hiding inside.

Whispering a spell under his breath and pointing his wand at the night-sky, a mark formed above Moody's head and the Auror looked up, his face purpling with rage and humiliation when, instead of the Dark Mark that consisted of a skull and snake that he had expected to be there, a smiley face appeared instead.

"Mischief managed," James sniggered.

"Dumbledore next?" Sirius asked and James nodded.

"Dumbledore next," he confirmed.

Remus let out a slight whimper. "I'm surrounded by crazy people," he moaned.

"And you love it," James grinned.

* * *

Sneaking into Hogwarts unnoticed wasn't the easiest thing – but for the marauders, nothing was impossible, especially when they were armed with an invisibility cloak and a large spell repertoire. Using the secret passage leading from Honeydukes cellar and into Hogwarts, the three marauders slowly made their way to Dumbledore's office.

"This is such a bad idea," Remus whispered once they reached the revolving stairs to the Headmaster's office, guarded by a gargoyle statue. "We will never get away with this."

James rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeh of little faith," he snorted as he threw of the invisibility cloak. Turning to the gargoyle, he cleared his throat. "Eh…Lemon drops… Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans… Chocolate Frogs…"

Remus and Sirius exchanged looks. "We're going to be here forever," Sirius bemoaned.

James threw them an annoyed look. "No, we're not! The password is always a candy. I just have to figure out which one!"

Remus nodded at James and then turned back to Sirius. "Forever and ever," he agreed sagely.

James scowled, turning back to the gargoyle. "Ice Mice… Blood Pops… Cauldron Cakes… Acid Pops… Cockroach Clusters…"

Sirius yawned. "Wake me up when he's done, will you, Moony?"

Remus sighed. Fifteen minutes later, James was still rambling up names of wizarding candy, the gargoyle not moving an inch. The former Head-Boy was beginning to sound rather desparate. "…Jelly Slugs… Pepper Imps… Oh, come on, you stupid statue… Sugar Quills… Chocolate Frogs – "

" – Pretty sure you've already mentioned those, Prongs," Remus interrupted.

James ignored him. "…Fizzing Whizbees… Peppermint Toads…"

"The password might not even be a Wizarding Candy. It could be a muggle one!" Remus sing-songed.

James froze. "Oh. Well, help me out, then, Moons! Time's wasting!"

Remus threw him a blank look. "You can't be serious. Do you have any idea how much muggle candy there are?"

James' shoulders slumped. "Why couldn't he have had an easy password, like Bertie Bott's Beans in Every Flavour?"

The gargoyle leaped aside. Remus and James gawked, incredulous, while Sirius opened his eyes. "Did I miss something?"

"But I already mentioned Bertie Bott's Beans," James said in despair.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you said _Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans_…not _Bertie Bott's Beans in Every Flavour,_" Remus smirked as the three marauders stepped onto the spiral staircase which immediately began to move upwards. "Which was clearly the password."

The staircase came to a stop in front of the oak door leading to the Headmaster's office, and the marauders quickly flung the cloak over them again. James pulled out his wand and pointed it at the door, while whispering a more advanced form of the basic unlocking spell, _Alohomora, _and the door opened with a click.

"Where does the old codger keep his lemon drops?" Sirius hissed under his breath. A portrait of Sirius' ancestor, Phineas Nigellus Black, let out a loud snore, and Sirius winced. "Let's hurry, please?"

"Don't rush me," James hissed. "This is going be my master prank…"

"Too bad you won't be around to see the results," Remus whispered dryly, while James looked through the Headmaster's desk drawers in search of his candy stash.

"Jackpot!" James breathed out when he found the bowl of yellow candy in the third drawer. Pulling out a small potions vial from the inside of his robes, he quickly poured out the contents over the candy. Sniffing slightly to make sure the smell hadn't changed, James stood up, satisfied. "Let's go."

Still safely hidden under James' cloak, the three marauders made their way to the door, grins on all three of their faces. When they stood on the stairs again, now taking them back down, Remus asked the question that had been on his mind for several minutes: "What was that potion, James?"

James smirked. "Oh, just something Lily cooked up."

"_Lily _was in on this?" Sirius asked incredulously.

"Yep," James said. "She's not all that happy with Dumbledore either. In fact, it was ridiculously easy to convince her…she said it's for the Greater Good if old Dumbles loosen up some…and I mean that quite literary. By Merlin, I hope there are lots of witnesses when the potion takes effect…" A dreamy smile appeared on James' face.

"You still haven't told me what the potion does," Remus reminded him.

"Oh, you know, nothing special… It will just _loosen his tongue_ and cause him to break into rhyme and song at random intervals. And if the potion just happens to _loosen_ his bowels as well…well, that's just an _unfortunate_ side-effect." James threw Remus and Sirius an innocent look.

Sirius burst out laughing, while Remus stared. "Loosen his _bowels? _Remind me never to get on Lily's bad side."

James patted his back. "I remind myself of that every day."

* * *

**21 March**

The next day, after spending the night at Sirius' apartment, the three marauders returned to Hogwarts under James' invisibility cloak to reap the fruits of their labour the night before. Walking around on the grounds, invisible and under a heavy silencing spell, the three could laugh as much as they wanted as the students' gossip and whispers about the Headmaster's strange behaviour during the day reached their ears. The mission had clearly been a success.

During this time, they also planted some more harmless pranks: time-set dungbombs in a Slytherin's backpack, candy that would make you hiccup bubbles for half-an hour in a Hufflepuff's pocket, plastic wrap on the toilets in the Quidditch Locker rooms, and rigging the entrance to the castle to play the Imperial March a.k.a. Darth Vader's theme whenever someone wearing black entered (which was all the time, considering it was the main colour of the school robes...).

However, as the day went on, Remus got more and more tired, and several hours before moonrise, the three friends made their way to the Shrieking Shack to let Remus' rest some before his transformation.

When the full moon finally rose in the sky, if someone happened to look out a window, a stag, a dog and a werewolf could be seen running across the grounds and into the Forbidden Forest. The Alpha was happily unaware that this would be the last time in a long time he got to run with someone from his pack, their human minds content, undisturbed and for once, free from the worries of the war and simply enjoying the strength of true friendship.

* * *

**24 April**

"Thank you so much for doing this," Lily told Aurora Lovegood as the two friends – both on maternity leave – entered the bare corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries, their identities safely hidden by their specially issued hooded Unspeakable robes. "I know you should be home resting, considering you recently gave birth – "

" – Oh, don't worry about it," Aurora said with a grin. "I promised I'd do my best to get you into the locked room, and I always keep my promises. Besides, I needed to get out of the house – Xenophilius is driving me mad: our daughter was a bit premature, yes, but that's no reason to be overprotective." Lily laughed. "And speaking of my daughter, I have something for you." Aurora reached into her robes and pulled out a photograph of a newborn baby with faint eyebrows, her head barely covered with tufts of blonde hair. "This is my Luna."

"Oh, she's so cute!" Lily gushed, happily taking the picture.

Aurora glowed with pride. "Thank you! Xeno swears she looks like me, but I think she looks like him. Or maybe she looks like both of us. Either way, Luna is adorable!"

"I agree wholeheartedly," Lily said, carefully putting the picture in one of the many pockets on her robe. Taking a deep breath, Lily followed Aurora into the circular room with the twelve handleless doors. Confidently walking forward to one of them, Aurora pulled out her wand and began to tap it against the door at various intervals, while mumbling rapidly under her breath. The door began to glow with a golden sheen, and then, it swung open. Aurora gave Lily a long look. "Let's go."

Swallowing, Lily nodded and slowly entered. All her hopes laid in this chamber. Whatever it held, Lily wanted it to be something she could use to protect Harry from Voldemort..._anything._

"Last time we spoke of this room, you asked me what it held," Aurora said, her voice barely a whisper. "My answer then was...cryptic. I told you that the studies done in the Department of Mysteries have to do with life and what makes it worth living, and that this room is part of that. I'm afraid I intentionally misled you."

Lily threw Aurora a startled look, and the Unspeakable smiled. "This room…what we study here is not just _part _of life. It's _all_ of it. It's the very thing that makes life worth living at all. It's the main thing, the most important piece." Lily gasped as the previously muted light in the room lit up. "Do you understand, Lily?" Aurora asked. "It's love."

"Love…" Lily whispered to herself, her eyes catching sight of a large fountain of what she recognized as Amortentia in the room, steam rising in spirals from it. She smiled at the familiar aromas reaching her nose: the smell of new books, James' hair and Harry's baby powder.

Aurora nodded. "A force that surpasses logic, the forces of nature and even death itself."

"It surpasses death itself…" Lily mumbled to herself, frowning. Was that how she would save Harry? With love? It sounded outlandish, somehow, too easy…and yet, too difficult. How? Love was not something you could touch, or something you could somehow channel…or could you?

"The books are over here," Aurora said, touching Lily's arm gently and interrupting her thoughts. The red-head let herself be led towards the opposite side of the room, where a large bookcase filled with books and parchments stood. "I'm still not sure what you're hoping to find, but whatever it is, you better hurry," Aurora said. "I only managed to get permission for us to be here an hour."

"An hour?" Lily said miserably. "That's nothing."

Aurora gave her a sympathetic look. "I know. It was the best I could do, though. I'm sorry."

Lily shook her head. "It's alright," she said while pulling out several books and rolls of parchment. "I'm so grateful you managed to get me in here at all – it can't have been easy."

"It wasn't," Aurora said dryly. "Do you want me to help you look?"

Lily shook her head. "It's no use. I don't even know what I would tell you to search for. Hell, _I _don't even know what I'm searching for."

Aurora nodded. "Alright. Well, I could take notes for you?"

Lily smiled, grateful. "Thank you."

The hour they had been given went by quickly – too quickly, for Lily's taste – as Lily searched through the texts, occasionally dictating something out loud for Aurora to write down. Suddenly, the two women tensed, feeling a strange pull on their insides. Aurora sighed, standing up. "I was told we would know when the hour was up – I'm guessing that's the sign."

Lily frowned, trying to fight against the feeling, but it was only becoming more painful by the second, and she grimaced, standing up as well. "And from the excruciating pain in my gut, I'm guessing we've already overstayed our welcome."

They quickly made their way out of the chamber, and both women let out sighs of relief when they once again found themselves in the circular room with the twelve revolving doors, the pain disappearing upon their exit from the love chamber – now locked once again. "Did you find what you were looking for?" Aurora asked, handing Lily the notes she had taken.

Lily sighed. "To be honest, I'm not sure," she admitted. She had found lots of obscure texts and research on the power of love, romantic love, familiar love, unconditional love, the love of sacrifice, a life for a life, and so on, but Lily was not sure how to make heads or tails of it, or how to use it – if it was even possible. There had been no straight answer: no rituals or concrete solutions on how to save Harry, and Lily wasn't sure she was any wiser than she had been when she entered the chamber. Harry's fate still weighed just as heavy and his survival was just as uncertain as before.

* * *

**Trivia**

- Igor Karkaroff was a Death Eater captured by Alastor Moody after six months pursuit, and guilty of helping Antonin Dolohov torture countless muggles (as found out in Goblet of Fire).

- In HP and the Deathly Hallows, we learn of Dumbledore's friendship/relationship/emnity with Grindelwald and the unfortunate, muddled circumstances behind his sister Ariana's death.

- Fruit punch mouth - what Buffy told the Master he had in BTVS 1x12: Prophecy Girl right before killing him.

- The marauders' prank on Moody was inspired by 'the dustbin incident' in his yard that called Mr. Weasley away the night before the Trio go to Hogwarts for their fourth year (Goblet of Fire chapter 11). And who knows? Maybe that prank is why Moody charmed his dustbins to attack intruders and burst out of his house so fiercely that might...

- Peter drunken mishap with apparition: don't drink and drive = don't drink and disapparate

- Yugoslavia is still around in 1981, as the Breakup of Yugoslavia, during which it was split up into several independent countries, occurred in the 1990s.

- Voldemort hid in an Albanian forest after his defeat on Halloween 1981 until he possessed Quirrell. In this chapter, we actually get a reason why he might have chosen that country over all others: it is a possible location of another symbol needed to unlock the powersource. Even when in 'exile' Voldemort is working towards his ultimate goal...

- One Horcrux rather than seven: in this universe, unlike canon, Voldemort found an alternative to his many Horcruxes before he could split his soul more than once. As such, there is only the Diary Horcrux which he made while at school. Which also means the story still fits certain events in HP and the Chamber of Secrets...

- The secret/locked room in the Department of Mysteries is one that focuses on love, as learned from Dumbledore in Order of the Phoenix chapter 37, when he speculates on what the 'power the Dark Lord knows not' is.

- It has been stated by J.K. Rowling that a large fountain filled with Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world, can be found in the love room of the Department of Mysteries. Amortentia and its looks and effects are described in Half-Blood Prince: it smells differently to different people according to what attracts them. For Lily, Harry and James are obviously the two most important things in her life - and smell of books is obviously due to her love of reading.

- According to canon and J.K. Rowling, we learn that the reason Harry survived is because of Lily's sacrifice: her love protected him, a protection that stretches well beyond that single moment in time. It has been argued that if this was really the case, there must be several other babies who would also have survived the killing curse, since a parent laying down their lives for their child is what any good, loving parent would do, and therefore, Harry's survival must be due to something else. But the difference between Lily and other parents in the same situation is that Voldemort gave Lily a chance to stand aside, whereas anyone else in his path would simply be cut down. I don't argue that all the other parents would have stepped away if faced with the same choice - of course they wouldn't - but the fact is that those parents weren't faced with that choice, whereas Lily was (which we now know is due to Snape's request to let her live). And that makes all the difference. Not some spell, ritual, or incantation Lily did on Harry, but the simple act of standing her ground. I weighed back and forth whether I should have Lily find some obscure ritual in the Department of Mysteries and have her perform it as the base of Harry's survival, but in the end decided not to since I felt that would have actually diminished Lily's sacrifice and the pure, selfless act of love it is. Books and knowledge can only take you so far, and I wanted Lily to only be able to depend on herself and her heart (just like Buffy when she faces Angelus in BTVS s. 2 in the end has nothing and no one but herself to depend on) and be forced to accept her helplessness despite her determination to somehow prevent/circumvent the prophecy which is what the scene in the Department of Mysteries is all about.


	20. Speeches

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**14 May**

After a long, satisfying day at work, Remus was taking an impulsive stroll through Diagon Alley. As a 'thank you for saving my life,' Lena Page had hired him after the damage the library had sustained during Voldemort's raid on it almost a year ago had been repaired. It may not be the most_ challenging _work, but it was_ work, _for which Remus was incredibly grateful.

For the past few months, he and Buffy were no longer getting by on only Buffy's earnings – he was contributing with his own. That he no longer felt like a charity case made it a lot easier to hold his head high and it made him feel better about himself. Buffy still deserved so much better than him, but for some reason, she had decided he was what she wanted, and nowadays he actually felt somewhat worthy of her love.

On top of that, he no longer dreaded the transformations as much. He wasn't quite sure how that had happened, but Buffy was sure it had to do with the tips and recommendations her friend Oz had given them during their trip to her original universe, and perhaps she was right. Either way, it gave Remus hope for a future not only with decreased pain during the transformations, but perhaps a future where he could even control his change.

Remus paused in front of a jewellery store. He had money to spend on something beyond the bare necessities and he knew he wanted to buy something for Buffy. He knew Buffy appreciated practical things, like weapons, but this time he wanted to give her something else, something _nice, _something completely gratuitous but _pretty:_ Buffy might be the Slayer, but she was also a woman, and she liked to dress up on occasion, and Remus sometimes feared he wasn't romantic enough.

While neither him nor Buffy were the kind of person to constantly confirm their love for each other out loud (though admittedly such words often became superfluous when you could feel each other's emotions), Remus wanted to show Buffy that he truly appreciated her. Even though he knew that love didn't demand any big gestures, Remus wanted Buffy to know that he loved her and would never take her for granted. Their love was simple and true, and for once, Remus wanted to do one of those grand gestures for Buffy. In the past, buying something as cheap as flowers had barely been an option, but now he could.

Slowly, he stepped into the shop, feeling rather out of place as he looked around at the glass counters and displays, filled with glittering jewels and baubles in silver and gold.

"How can I help you?" A cheery voice asked and Remus looked up at the female desk clerk.

"Uhh…I'm just looking for something for my girlfriend…"

"A present?"

"Yes, But not for a birthday or anything like that," Remus hurriedly added.

"Hmm…just something to let her know you appreciate her, huh?" The clerk, whose name-tag said 'Ashley' smiled and Remus flushed slightly.

"Something like that, yes,"

"Perhaps a bracelet? Or a simple necklace?" Ashley suggested. "What would you like? Gold or silver? Or perhaps platinum? We offer a very wide range, and we can also add protective spells, like anti-theft charms, if you'd like."

Remus blinked, feeling rather lost. "Uhh…do you mind I just look around for a bit?"

Ashley smirked. "That's fine. Just holler when you see something you like."

Remus nodded and slowly walked through the store, paying special attention to the necklaces and bracelets. None of them really appealed to him, though – they were either too plain or too gaudy, and despite himself, he found himself drifting over to the ring section, his eyes drawn to the various engagement rings on display.

"Have you been together long?" Remus jumped and Ashley looked amused.

"A few years," Remus muttered.

Ashley nodded knowingly. "Have you talked about marriage?"

"Not really," Remus mumbled.

"But it's something _you _have been thinking of?"

"Not really," Remus mumbled again, but even as he said it, he suddenly saw an image in his mind's eye, of Buffy in a wedding dress… Before, he hadn't even dared to think of something as committed and serious as marriage, because he hadn't felt worthy of being Buffy's husband… But now… Perhaps he wasn't quite ready to propose yet…but perhaps he would be, sooner than he thought, and when he got to that point, it would be nice to already have a ring…

"I'll take that one," he suddenly blurted out, pointing at a slim and classy engagement ring before he could think about what he was doing or reconsider it. It was a simple band, free from stones or other ornaments in white gold – perhaps most women would have liked something flashier: but it wasn't Remus' style, and he had a strong feeling it wasn't Buffy's either.

Besides, diamonds or other stones would only get in the way during Buffy's patrols, and while he might have more money than before, that didn't mean he could afford something like that. Still…he wanted something more than just the band to show his appreciation for Buffy. "Could you engrave the inside?"

"Sure," Ashley said happily. "What do you want it to say?" After Remus had dictated the words he wanted, the clerk pulled out her wand and mumbled a spell under her breath as she pointed it at the ring. Remus watched with waited breath as the words he had chosen appeared on the inside of the ring. He thought that for him and Buffy, they were perfect, not to mention true.

Ashley grinned at him as she put the ring into a box in black velvet and then into a small bag, which she handed to Remus once he'd paid. "Good luck with your proposal."

Remus swallowed nervously. "Thanks," he croaked out. As he walked out of the store, feeling rather dazed, the ring weighed heavily in his pocket. He had gone in with the intention to buy a simple gift to give Buffy when he got home – and he came out with an engagement ring. "I've lost my mind," he muttered to himself, shaking his head as he apparated away.

* * *

**13 June**

"You're letting your guard down again," Buffy told Joshua patiently, while she effortlessly blocked a rather predictable hit he was throwing at her. "That makes it really easy for me to do this – " Her fist flew out and as Joshua moved to block it, Buffy made a sweep with her left leg. Joshua, his legs taken out from under him, found himself on his back on the ground. "You don't use your legs enough," Buffy said while helping the male Slayer up. "A good fighter takes advantage of his entire body, not just his arms and fists."

"She's right," Phillip called out. "I've told you before – and since you won't listen to me, perhaps you will listen to Miss Summers."

Joshua rolled his eyes. "First time I've heard of it," he muttered to Buffy who smiled.

"He means well. And he cares about you."

Joshua huffed slightly. "I know that. And I truly appreciate all he's done for me. But that doesn't stop him from being pompous."

"Something you two have in common," Buffy sing-songed.

Joshua pouted. "He's a lot more conceited than I am!"

"I beg to differ, Mr. I-am-strong-and-handsome-and-all-females-better-worship-at-my-feet," Buffy smirked.

Joshua flushed. "That was before I met you," he said with a shy look, something totally uncharacteristic of the normally confident, and even arrogant, Slayer.

Buffy threw him an awkward smile. _'Oh, God, Lily was right about his crush on me...'_

"Stop flirting with my girlfriend," Remus called out from the sidelines, his voice filled with amusement. Joshua's eyes widened, for a second looking like a deer in the headlights and Buffy let out a laugh.

"As much as I hate to agree with the werewolf, I second that," Joshua's Watcher said dryly. "You're here to practice, so _practice."_

"Yes, Phillip," Joshua muttered, moving back into a fighting stance. It seemed, however, as though their two spectators' comments had thoroughly unbalanced Joshua, because this time, both his leg- and handwork was sloppy. Joshua's face was red, both from embarrassment and from trying too hard.

Buffy frowned slightly. "So where do you get your puns from?" She asked in an attempt to loosen Joshua up some.

"Umm...I have a list of them that works for pretty much every situation."

Buffy stared. "Seriously?"

Joshua's flush deepened. "Well, _sometimes _I improvise. But it's difficult to appear witty without any preparation!"

"I find it a lot easier without any preparation," Buffy said, trying valiantly not to laugh. Joshua was so geeky in his attempt to be cool – it was kind of cute. "You know, to just say whatever comes into your head. You should try that."

"I will," Joshua said, a slight smile on his face. That smile disappeared, however, when Buffy drove an elbow into his gut, making him lose his breath.

"You leave far too many openings for me," Buffy said with a smirk. "Your offence is good, but you need to protect yourself better. Just because you _can_ take more hits than most people doesn't mean you should _have_ to because you've got a sloppy defence."

Joshua nodded, taking her words to heart. The fact that he couldn't take Buffy down was proof enough that she knew what she was talking about, and it only made him more determined to prove his worth.

"I have a feeling you're a good Slayer, Josh," Buffy said, cocking her head to the side. "And if we keep working together, I'll make sure you become great." A quick thought of Kendra passed through Buffy's mind. One Slayer had already died on her turf in Sunnydale, and Buffy still felt responsible for Kendra's death since Buffy had been the one to walk into Angelus' trap. With her occupied elsewhere, Drusilla had been able to easily invade the Sunnydale High Library and kill her sister Slayer. She would make sure Joshua stayed alive. "Just make sure you don't become overconfident," she added.

"There's no chance of that happening as long as you keep kicking my arse as easily as you have been," Joshua said ruefully.

"Good to know," Buffy said with a grin. She had missed a sparring partner that could keep up with her in hand-to-hand combat. Her visit in Sunnydale where she had gotten to spar with Faith had reminded her that she needed someone like that to keep her own abilities sharp. Joshua could be that person. And just having another Slayer around was great, adding a special layer of comradeship she couldn't find anywhere else. There were some things only another Slayer could truly understand, and even though Joshua was male, she felt the same connection to him as the one she had had with both Kendra and Faith before him.

* * *

**20 June**

"I am sorry to see you go, Horace," Dumbledore told Horace Slughorn as he shook his hand, his expression grave. The end of another school year had come, and the last of the students had just left the school.

The Potion's Master chuckled, his bags packed by his feet. "Oh, it's been a nice run, and I'll miss my Slytherins, but it's time for me to move on to a more quiet life and a few creature comforts. Have you never considered doing the same, Albus?"

"Alas, I am afraid that's not for me, Horace," Dumbledore answered. "I believe I shall be Headmaster until the day I die. There is something special about guiding generations of children into adulthood: retirement couldn't be anywhere near as satisfying."

"Ah, yes...now that you mention it, I will miss that, perhaps most of all." Slughorn sighed, fingering his moustache. "All that new, untapped talent... Speaking of talent, do you know what Lily Evans is doing these days? I've always wondered what happened to her after she married James Potter. She's still one of my favourite students, you know – funny, kind, and truly brilliant. I've followed her exploits against You-Know-Who in the Daily Prophet, with great interest. She was very brave, even as a student."

"Well, she and James have a son now," Dumbledore said. "Other than that, I am afraid I can tell you very little, except that Lily worked for the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry before she went on maternity leave."

Slughorn blinked. "Motherhood, you say? I did not see that one coming."

"It suits her very well, and I am quite certain she has not given up on her career."

"Well, I certainly hope not!" Slughorn exclaimed. "That would be a waste of talent! And to work in the Department of Mysteries! I always knew she would make something of herself. And speaking of the Department of Mysteries, I've always wondered what they study down there... say, Albus, do you know how to get in touch with dear Lily?"

"I am afraid not," Dumbledore lied.

"Shame," Slughorn muttered. "I would have liked to catch up, since we haven't kept in touch, sadly enough. Well, have you found a replacement for me, yet? And of course, you'll need a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor as well, just like always."

"I'll admit I haven't been looking," Dumbledore said. "But these things always seem to work themselves out. I am sure I will have filled both posts by the start of next term."

"Well, good luck to you, Albus," Slughorn said, nodding at the Headmaster as he put a velvet beret on top of his balding head and grabbed his bags.

"And to you, Horace," Dumbledore said, watching as Slughorn stepped out of the castle and began his trek down the grounds. Frowning to himself, he smacked his lips, feeling a sudden craving for his lemon drops. It had taken a long while for him to realise that his lemon drops were to blame for him bursting out into rhyme and song, and for his sudden need to frequently visit the bathroom. It had been a sad day when he had been forced to throw them all out. Who could possibly be cruel enough to mess with innocent candy? He sighed to himself, smacking his lips again. It was high time for a visit to a muggle candy store so he could restock his stash.

* * *

**26 June**

Sirius stance was ramrod straight, with his arms placed behind his back and his head held high. Beside him, the other Auror trainees in his class stood just as still, caught up in the solemn atmosphere – or to be more accurate, pretending to be. The speech they were forced to listen to was making it difficult to remain attentively awake, and Sirius had been tuning it out for quite awhile now.

From his place on a dais in front of them, Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the current orator, remained oblivious of his bored audience. His speech had already been going on for over twenty minutes. Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Moody yawn, the Auror not even bothering to cover it up.

"My feet are falling asleep," Emma Ackerly, to his right, hissed out of the corner of her lips and Sirius' lips twitched. It seemed he wasn't the only one who was feeling fidgety and wanted to get on with the graduation ceremony. During the two vigorous days of entrance tests, he and Emma had ended up in the same group of recruits and was the only one from that group to make it into the Auror Academy with him, and he was glad she had lasted through all three years of training. "Does the man ever stop talking?"

"…It is imperative that we acknowledge the importance the Ministry plays in times like this, and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is perhaps the most vital branch of all. This war will be won through strong leadership. This war will be won when you, our Aurors, come together under one banner. This war will be won through our impeccable sense of duty, bravery and honour. My Department is working _tirelessly_ to make sure that_ all _criminals and Dark Wizards, be they Death Eaters or small-time crooks, are judged fairly and then punished according to the righteous letter of the law…"

"He certainly seems to like the sound of his own voice," Sirius mumbled back. "If I'd known how long this would take, I would have made sure to pee beforehand."

Emma choked on her laughter and Crouch paused in his speech, his eyes narrowing at the row of Auror trainees in search of the offender. Emma and Sirius quickly schooled their faces into neutral expressions. From the smirk on Moody's face, it was clear that at least some merriment must still be showing, but Crouch didn't notice.

"Ahem… Right. The law… The foundation of any society and it is up to us, the Ministry, to uphold it. I now turn myself to you, our new Aurors – an elite group of witches and wizards and truly part of the Ministry's finest, our future and our right hand. You are the tool through which justice will be brought. I have no doubt you will make us proud." Crouch turned his attention to Rufus Scrimgeour, who had taken over as Head Auror after Don Blake's death.

The tawny haired man stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Congratulations. You have survived the Auror Academy. From the moment I call your name, you have earned the title _Auror._ Step forward and accept your certificate and a place in the ranks of Britain's Magical Law Enforcement: Emma Ackerly._"_

Emma stepped forward, accepting her diploma from Crouch and shook his hand, then Scrimgeours, and finally Moody's, before walking back to her place beside Sirius.

"Sirius Black," Scrimgeour intoned, and Sirius stepped forward, his heart pounding as he accepted his own certificate from Crouch. In a slight daze, he shook the man's hand, Crouch giving him a rather cold, probing look.

Scrimgeour, however, nodded at him, and when Moody took his hand, the veteran Auror grabbed it tightly, grinning broadly at him. "Good work, laddie," he said. "I knew you could do it."

Sirius grinned back as he walked back to his place in the row. A couple of minutes later, all their names had been called, and Scrimgeour made a final announcement of their graduation. The graduates cheered, quickly moving to clap each other on the back.

"We did it!" Emma exclaimed. "We're Aurors! Who is up for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron? The first round's on me!"

"Count me in!" Tomas Proudfoot shouted, embracing Emma tightly and giving her a firm kiss. For a moment, Sirius felt a pang in his heart as he witnessed the scene, wishing Mandy could be here and experience this moment with him. "And is it just me, or did Crouch's speech seem to go on forever?"

"It's not just you!" The entire group of new Aurors shouted loudly, laughing, completely ignoring the dirty look Crouch was sending them.

"I much preferred Scrimgeour's," Sirius said, shaking away his melancholia – this was supposed to be a joyful moment. "Short and sweet. I'm going to have to say no to the drinks, though."

"I never took you for a bore, Black!" Tomas laughed, clapping him on the back. "This is an evening for celebration, and if it's up to me, I plan to celebrate all weekend! On Monday, work begins."

Sirius laughed. "Oh, I plan to celebrate, alright. Just not with you."

Tomas gasped. "You wound me. Who could possibly be better company than us?" Beside him, Emma nodded vigorously in agreement.

"My best friend, of course," Sirius said with a grin. In fact, the entire Order was meeting, not only to celebrate Sirius' graduation, but also because Dumbledore wanted them to 'commemorate their alliance, loyalty and dedication' - whatever that meant.

"Oh, you're meeting James?" Tomas grinned. "Why didn't you say so? How's the man doing? I still can't believe he quit…of course, he got his diploma anyway – almost a whole year early, lucky bastard."

"Well, some people have the talent," Sirius chuckled weakly. "He's doing fine, by the way," He could call James' situation many things – lucky was not one of them. Of course, Proudfoot had no idea of the circumstances surrounding James' resignation from the Academy, nor did Emma.

"Well, say hi from us," Emma prompted.

"I will," Sirius said. Mandy might be gone from his life – perhaps forever - but he still had his friends. And even though James had been forced to forgo the actual graduation ceremony, they could still share the moment of his gradation together.

* * *

"Congratulations, Sirius!" James hollered as Sirius, alongside Moody, entered the secret room in the Hog's Head where the Order was gathered. It was actually the same room the marauders, Lily, Buffy and Samantha had had their first Order meeting in – but this time, Aberforth was in the room as well, rather than upstairs tending the bar, having closed the pub for the evening.

"Thanks," Sirius said with a grin, making sure to throw a funny grimace at Harry, who was sitting in Lily's lap, at the same time.

The toddler laughed. "Pa'foo!" He shouted, pointing at Sirius. "Pa'foo! Woof! Go doggie!"

Sirius couched, looking extremely uncomfortable, more than aware of all the eyes on him. "Do you have any idea what he's talking about, James?" He said.

"No idea," James said innocently, even though both of them knew very well Harry wanted Sirius to turn into his Animagus form – which was not only secret, but also unregistered, and therefore, illegal. It would be highly ironic if he got himself_ arrested _just after he'd been made an Auror, who was meant to uphold the law, not break it on a regular basis.

Remus snorted. "How did the ceremony go?" he asked, changing the subject, and absently fingering the velvety box he had in his pocket, while glancing at Buffy. Perhaps tonight would be the perfect time to propose… His stomach clenched uncomfortably. But then again, perhaps not. He couldn't imagine doing it in front of a lot of people, in any case.

"Fine, I guess," Sirius shrugged. "Mostly, it was boring as hell. Moody agrees with me."

"When Crouch gets going with his speeches, there's no stopping him," Moody said gruffly.

James laughed. "While I'm sorry I couldn't do ceremony with you, Pads, I can't say I'm sorry to have missed _that."_

"I don't blame you," Sirius said lightly. "Emma and Tomas say 'hi,' by the way."

James nodded, looking rather self-satisfied. "It's always nice to know I'm missed." Beside him, Lily rolled her eyes. Sirius, however, snorted, enjoying the big-headed side to James' personality – it rarely made an appearance these days, but when it did, it was always amusing.

"I didn't say they missed you; just that they say 'hi'."

James glared. "Well, it was_ implied."_

"Alright, everyone!" Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together and interrupting James and Sirius' easy banter. "Tonight is very special, and not just because Sirius here has graduated from the Auror Academy, though that is, of course, reason enough to celebrate."

"Hear, hear!" James hollered.

"'Eer, 'eer!" Harry mimicked, the entire Order laughing as well, including Joshua, who, surprisingly enough, seemed to have a soft spot for children: he'd been making funny faces at Harry ever since he arrived, sending the toddler into peels of laughter. From his place in Alice's lap, little Neville only blinked, his thumb in his mouth, not nearly as excitable as Harry was.

Dumbledore threw Harry a patient smile. "Indeed, Harry," he said with a light chuckle before he turned once again to the Order. "But the reason tonight is special is because this is the first time in a very long time that the entire Order is gathered. Together, we have accomplished much, with little to no recognition. Most of us are not law enforcement and have no obligation to stand against the threat and danger Voldemort and his followers represent, but do it anyway. Some do more than others: Dorcas, for example, has been invaluable from her position as a spy among Voldemort's Death Eaters. Thanks to her, I was, for example, forewarned about the Quintaped attack."

Dorcas' head rose a fraction with pride, even as she blushed when admiring murmurs rose in the room, as most of the Order members hadn't known they had a spy in Voldemort's camp at all. Peter, on the other hand, had gone deathly pale, unnoticed by everyone else. He was more than well aware that when he informed him of this, the Dark Lord would doubtlessly punish him for not figuring this out sooner. His master was right: he was a failure.

"But you are all valuable, no matter how little or how much you contribute," Dumbledore continued. "We don't have an inner circle – in the Order we are all equal, though admittedly, we are also a rather mismatched group of people," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes, creating laughs.

"Under peaceful circumstances, most of us would not have exchanged words or even met. But during this time of war, we have come together under the banner of the Phoenix, because while we differ in opinion and even in our way of life, we have one thing in common: we believe in a better Wizarding World, one free from prejudice and fear. Tonight, I want to celebrate our dedication and our loyalty to each other. I want to honour this alliance, our loyalty, to commemorate that we are _united as_ _one."_

"We live in dark times, my friends," Dumbledore said gravely. "But when I look at all of you, I feel hope for a brighter future. As long as we stand fast, the light _will_ endure. Look to your left. Look to your right. Tonight, I want us to not think of the war, but of the people beside you. You are surrounded by friends."

Dumbledore sat down, and as if by an unseen signal, food and drink appeared on the table, just like in Great Hall. People immediately began to talk with each other, the atmosphere relaxed.

"A very pretty speech," Phillip muttered, taking a sip from his beverage. "But it still is only a speech."

"Oh, loosen up Phillip," Joshua said.

"You don't think much of Dumbledore, do you?" Remus asked the Watcher curiously.

Phillip gave Remus a look of derision. "No. And I don't think much of_ you _either."

Buffy frowned at him and Joshua looked embarrassed. Remus only looked resigned.

"Phillip, let it go," Joshua hissed at his Watcher. "So the man's a werewolf – big deal. He's not harming anyone."

"That you_ know_ of."

Joshua and Buffy gave him near identical glares. "You're always complaining about my manners," Joshua continued, undeterred. "What about your own?"

"I will behave," Phillip said with a sigh. "But for the life of me, I don't understand why you want me to be polite to an_ animal _– even if he is wearing the guise of a human." Decisively, he began to eat, signalling that he considered the conversation over. Remus, his fists clenched, had a feeling the man would ignore him for the rest of the night. Buffy looked like she was on the verge of wanting to hit something, preferably Phillip's face, and Joshua looked mortified.

"Eliza, are you back from France for good or just for tonight?" Lily asked after several moments of uncomfortable silence, desperate to break the notable tension at the table. "I was sad you moved back there, even though it was for the Order."

"Just for tonight," Eliza answered. "It seems Dumbledore was very keen on having the entire Order here. I'm going back tomorrow."

"How do you like your job as a Governess?"

"It is certainly interesting," Eliza said with a slight laugh. "Fleur definitely keeps me on my toes."

"The Delacour family, right?" James asked. Eliza nodded. "I've heard of them, of course. A fairly prestigious name in France and in pureblood circles, even here in Britain, though there's a lot of trash talk as well."

Eliza pursed her lips. "Because they have_ 'polluted' _their bloodline with Veela?"

James nodded. "Yes. I think it's ridiculous. Why, if I had the chance to marry a Veela, I'd - ow!" Lily had hit him. "I didn't mean it that way!"

"I know," Lily said sweetly. "I just wanted to remind you of your leash, dear." James flushed as the people overhearing their conversation laughed, including Buffy, whose murderous expression finally dissipated.

"Have you caught up with Caradoc yet?" The female Slayer asked the French woman.

Eliza shook her head, glancing over at the gruff man who was sitting further down the table, having what looked to be an intense conversation with Moody. "Not yet, though I will make sure to do so before I leave. I've missed his grumpy company." As if he realised someone was talking about him, Caradoc suddenly looked up. Seeing Eliza, he raised his glass with a smirk, toasting her silently.

"It seems like he has missed you to," Buffy said with a smirk. "Are you_ sure_ there's no romance between you?"

"Quite sure," Eliza said firmly, though she was blushing.

"Well, it is said absence make the heart grow fonder," Alice said teasingly, while feeding Neville some banana mush: most of it was ending up around his mouth rather than in it.

"I suppose it does," Eliza admitted musingly, glancing over at Caradoc again. "Still, even if I_ do _feel something, long-distance relationships rarely work..."

"Oh, that's just an excuse," Marlene snorted from her place beside Alice. "What's long distance for a wizard and witch? If you want him, go for it! Caradoc could probably use a lay – it might loosen him up some!"

"Marlene!" Alice, Buffy and Lily gasped, while Eliza's blush deepened.

"What? You were all thinking it!"

"I don't think his overall demeanour would change all that much," Dorcas muttered under her breath, and then blushed as she realised she hadn't said it quietly enough, since everyone was now staring at her.

"How do you know it won't? Do you have personal experience of sex with grouchy men, Dorcas?" Emmeline asked, the stately witch wearing a smirk on her face.

"Of course not," Dorcas muttered, her cheeks red. "Anyway, can we change the subject?"

"Yes, please," Frank groaned. "I don't need to talk about Caradoc's sex-life."

Remus, James, Sirius and Peter nodded in fervent agreement.

"How come you never told us you were a spy for Dumbledore?" Edgar Bones asked Dorcas quietly. Peter let out an inward sigh of relief, glad he hadn't been the one to have to bring it up, and thereby draw attention to himself.

Dorcas looked startled for a moment as she realised everyone within earshot had gone quiet and were listening intently in hopes of hearing her response. "Oh, Dumbledore thought I should keep it quiet," she answered uncomfortably. "A spy is only useful as long as no one knows about him or her, after all, and I think he was afraid You-Know-Who had a spy in the Order as well."

"Impossible!" Fabian Prewett spoke up, a frown on his normally jovial face. "We would know! Besides, all of us did the test with the orb Fawkes blessed when we joined, and just the thought of any one of us turning _after_ that is preposterous!"

His twin, Gideon, nodded. "Weren't Dumbledore just talking about our allegiance to each other? I agree with Fab: just the thought of one of us changing sides is absurd."

There were murmurs of agreements, and Dorcas shrugged. "I agree, and I suppose Dumbledore does as well now: he wouldn't have revealed me as the spy to you all if he thought there was still a danger."

There were nods all around, and Peter pursed his lips together. They were all so naive... Dumbledore could make as many speeches and come up with as many fun gatherings for the Order as he'd like to boost morale: in the end, none of that would matter against the Dark Lord's power.

"Enough war talk," Lily said decisively. "Marlene, how's your husband doing?"

All of the men within earshot groaned. "I thought we had finished talking about romance," James muttered.

"Is there something _wrong _with romance, James, dear?" Lily asked sweetly.

"None at all," James said hurriedly. "I was just thinking of Harry and Neville, you know. They don't need to be exposed to conversations about romance and s-e-x." As if emphasising his point, he put his hands over his son's ears. "They're very impressionable at this age, you know."

Harry blinked, looking adorably confused as he looked up at his father and tried to push his hands away. "Dada..."

"Right. You were thinking of _Harry,"_ Lily said sceptically, not fooled for a second. Their friends let out sniggers of amusement at James' expense.

"'Awwy!" Harry said, pointing at himself, having succeeded in removing James' hands from his ears, and Lily melted.

"Yes, you are!" She cooed. "Yes, you are!"

James let out a sigh of relief.

* * *

"Alright, everyone, gather around! Quickly, now, before it goes off!" Dumbledore said cheerily, motioning for all the Order members to take their place in front of the camera after everyone had finished eating and conversing. By this time, over half of them were slightly intoxicated, and so, it wasn't the most organised progress. Phillip's face was filled with contempt and he took his place reluctantly, dragged into position by Joshua, who was noticeably a lot more enthusiastic.

"I don't see why we need to take a bloody photo," Caradoc muttered.

"Well, I'd like to have one, to remember everyone by," Eliza said. "Hi," she added after a short pause. Caradoc looked down at her, his expression surprisingly tender.

"Hi," he said. "Well, I don't need a photograph to remember everyone by," he added in his normal gruff voice. "Besides, that sounds rather melancholic, like we're expecting most of us will get killed in the near future."

"It could happen," Buffy said lightly, entering into their conversation.

"Well, aren't you morbid," Remus said, amused.

"That's Miss Morbid to you," Buffy corrected cheekily, just as the camera flash went off.

"I wasn't ready!" They heard Gideon protest. "I was scratching my bum!"

Buffy snorted and most of the Order began to laugh. After a couple of more requests to retake the photo, Dumbledore went to adjust the camera, before he quickly walked back to his place. "Make sure you're ready now," he said. "And smile!"

The flash went off.

* * *

******__****Published: **_16__/8 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Lena Page was the librarian who rejected Remus' job-application after she found out he was a werewolf. After he saved her life, she agreed to hire him.

- Kendra was the Slayer called after Buffy's death-by-drowning in BTVS 1x12: Prophecy Girl. She was killed by Drusilla in the episode 2x21: Becoming, part 1.

- "A quiet life and a few creature comforts" is part of a sentence from the chapter 'Horace Slughorn' in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, said to Dumbledore by Slughorn. In the same book, he mentioned Lily was one of his favourite students and that he makes a habit of 'collecting' promising students who he then mentors in his 'Slug Club' in order to make connections to those with money, fame, success and power.

- "I believe I shall be Headmaster until the day I die." Dumbledore's statement end up being quite true, in canon at least.

- An Auror called Proudfoot is stationed at Hogwarts during Harry's sixth year (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince). Tomas Proudfoot is meant to be him. Emma Ackerly is first mentioned in Road of Carnage chapter 5.

- "Because they have_ 'polluted' _their bloodline with Veela?": Fleur Delacour mentions her grandmother is a Veela, and Madame Maxine also mentions Fleur's Veela heritage in Road of Sacrifice chapter 12.

- The test with Fawkes blessed orb can be read about in Road of Carnage chapter 2.

- The photo the Order takes is shown to Harry by Moody in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix chapter 9.


	21. Treachery

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**11 July**

The Dark Lord's eyes were carefully neutral as he watched all of his Death Eaters, minus Peter Pettigrew, file into the room. He had thought that after Regulus Black's betrayal, he would be done with having to deal with traitors in his mists. And yet... His eyes narrowed dangerously as he watched Dorcas Meadowes enter alongside Severus Snape: both wore masks, of course, but to him, all his followers were recognisable anyway.

When Pettigrew had told him about Meadowes' duplicity two weeks ago, he had been furious: according to Pettigrew, she had been on Dumbledore's side from the very beginning. That would mean he, the Dark Lord, had made a mistake since he was the one to interrogate her _before_ he accepted her into his ranks.

Of course, it had helped taking his anger out on Pettigrew: why could he never figure out vital information before it got old? Meadowes had been in his ranks for months! Still, the man had his uses, especially since none in the Order knew of him, and the few who knew of him in his own ranks were people he would never need to doubt the loyalty of. But it was high time Pettigrew became more effective, and if the man succeeded in the mission he had given Pettigrew this time, the Order would be left reeling, low on both morale and people. That was a big _if, _however – he didn't hold out any great hopes.

There was one thing about the revelation of Meadowes as a spy that bothered the Dark Lord more than _her _treachery, and that was that now he was forced to mistrust Severus Snape as well. The man had, after all, been the one to bring Meadowes to him: had he known? If he had, that would mean he too was likely a part of Dumbledore's Order...and that bothered the Dark Lord a great deal, and he was determined to get to the bottom of things today.

For the past two weeks since Pettigrew told him of Meadowes, the Dark Lord had observed both her and Snape as closely as he could, noticing nothing strange about either of them. To each other, they seemed to be coolly neutral, though Meadowes could sometimes be seen throwing Snape looks of badly veiled desire: looks that were not returned. Hidden under a cloaking spell, he had thrown Legilimency attacks at both of them: Snape's thoughts had revealed nothing suspicious, but Meadowes' mind had confirmed Pettigrew's announcement. It made Voldemort wish he had tested her with Legilimency when she first came to him, and it was something he would make sure to do with all future recruits.

Other than giving him a chance to observe Meadowes and Snape's interaction with each other and others, the past two weeks had also given the Dark Lord the time he needed to decide what to do about the opportunity he had had in his hands. He could use Meadowes to spread false information unknowingly into the Order, which was also a fitting punishment for a double-crosser. But while that would have been the strategic thing to do, in the end, Voldemort realised the knowledge of having a traitor in his ranks rankled too much. The only fate Meadowes deserved was a painful execution, which was also the only thing that would satisfy him.

Voldemort rose from his throne, ignoring his Death Eater's looks of surprise at this action. "My loyal followers," he said with a smile "How..._good_ it is to see you. I have summoned you here today to give one of you a special acknowledgement..." His smile widened, red eyes glinting as murmurs of anticipation rose.

Dorcas was one of the few who did not let out any expectant sound. Instead, a frown appeared between her eyebrows, especially as she caught sight of the Dark Lord's smile, which to her, rather than comforting, seemed sinister. And...was he looking straight at her? She swallowed, her heart suddenly beating faster.

"Dorcas Meadowes...come. Take off your mask. Stand before me."

Dorcas nearly fainted. Why was he calling her name? And in front of what seemed to be every single Death Eater when most of their identities were usually kept hidden even amongst themselves? She had done nothing to deserve 'special acknowledgement...' Her stomach clenched in sudden realisation and she closed her eyes. Somehow, the Dark Lord must have learned of her true loyalties. Had Snape told him? No...they were on the same side now...right?

On trembling legs, she pulled off her mask and stepped forward, head held high. If she was going to die, she was not going to do it on her knees. "Yes, my Lord?" She forced herself to say. Perhaps she was overreacting...

"I was..._surprised_ when a very reliable source whispered in my ear about you spying on me for Dumbledore." Her hope died. "Did I not recruit you for _the_ _very opposite?"_

Dorcas head rose a fraction higher as whispers and outraged murmurs rose around her. "TRAITOR!" Bellatrix screeched, one of the few Death Eaters not wearing a mask. "I'll gouge your eyeballs out!"

"Well, that was your mistake, I suppose," Dorcas said, forcing her voice not to shake. The act was up; her minutes were numbered. There was no use to deny anything or make excuses. The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed.

"Yes...I suppose it was. One I will not make again, I assure you."

"I'm glad to know my presence has taught you something," Dorcas mocked. _"Voldemort,"_ she added, relishing in the gasps around her. It was the first – and probably the last - time she had said that name, and she was glad she had done it without stuttering.

Voldemort snarled. "Did no one know of her treachery? Did no one suspect? Are you all blind idiots?"

In hopes of enraging the Dark Lord enough to make her death quick and relatively painless, Dorcas was about to point out that that would make him at least just as blind and idiotic, but didn't get the chance, for someone had stepped forward -

Severus.

"I suspected," he said, lowering his mask, and Dorcas' eyes widened. What was he doing? If he was truly on Dumbledore's side, the last thing he should do was risk his life by bringing attention to himself... If he wasn't, however... The possibility of that stung more than Dorcas would have liked to admit.

"Severus," the Dark Lord's voice was harsh. "Explain."

Severus bowed his head, his voice smooth and self-assured. "Meadowes and I have been sharing a bed for several months. During this time, I began to realise that she was being...far too inquisitive about certain matters that she has no business knowing. This led me to the conclusion that her loyalty may not be entirely yours, my Lord."

Dorcas stared. Severus was playing the Dark Lord – and masterfully, by spinning facts, by leaving out their 'deal' about Lily Potter... And by telling the Dark Lord he had suspected Dorcas treachery, he was also protecting himself: if the Dark Lord looked inside Snape's head, he would only find confirmation of something Severus had already admitted knowledge about - her betrayal.

Severus story would only be further strengthened by his memories, which of course contained conversations during which Dorcas was asking questions. That Severus had known of her treachery from the very beginning and Snape's answers to her inquires, could be easily hidden or twisted by a master Occlumence – which Severus was. He truly was a Slytherin to the core, and Dorcas was impressed. By doing this, he was also making himself out to be more intelligent than all the other Death Eaters: he had suspected her disloyalty – they hadn't.

"Why did you not tell me this?" Voldemort spat.

"I was afraid I was wrong," Snape admitted. "I knew that if I went to you with my suspicions, you would immediately punish her with death. I will admit I managed to get somewhat..._attached_ during my sexual encounters with Meadowes. I didn't want to take the risk of her being killed for something she might be innocent of, and therefore, I opted not to tell you until I found conclusive proof."

Dorcas' eyes widened even further. Why had Severus told him that, when he easily could have come up with some other explanation. Telling the Dark Lord he had feelings for her would only make him seem weak... Unless he actually _did _have feelings, feelings he could not hide with Occlumency, and he needed to ascertain a cover for them for when Voldemort found them in his head.

Suddenly, Dorcas felt near tears. All this time, she had thought Severus was completely indifferent to her...and now she learned that might not be the case at all, but during a time when it was far too late to tell him how much she appreciated it – how much she had come to appreciate him.

"Do you truly think me so incompetent I would not ascertain Meadowes loyalty for myself after you told me of your suspicions?" Voldemort said coldly.

"Of course not, and I see now how foolish I was," Severus' said, bowing in the Dark Lord's direction. "In hindsight, I realise I should have gone to you immediately." Dorcas held her breath, hoping the Dark Lord's anger at Severus for 'withholding information' wasn't strong enough to order him killed.

"Yes, you should have. You overstepped your boundaries, Severus," the Dark Lord hissed.

"And it is inexcusable," Snape acknowledged. "But I did take certain measures to make sure nothing of importance got back to Dumbledore. By being her bed-partner, she has regarded me as her main source of information. And just like she tried to use me to find out _your_ plans, I wanted to use _her_ to find out what the Order was up to, to see how much – if anything – she was telling them."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed and he lifted his wand, pointing at Severus. Dorcas forced herself to not cry out in fear: if she did anything, she would blow Severus' cover and _both_ their lives would be over. Instead, she forced a mask of anguished betrayal onto her face, just in case someone turned to look in her direction.

"_Legilimens,"_ the Dark Lord hissed and Severus stiffened as his mind was entered.

Dorcas swallowed. The Dark Lord wasn't buying it... It seemed to take forever before the Dark Lord lowered his wand. But he did lower it. Had Severus succeeded in his bluff? "I want to see you after this meeting," the Dark Lord hissed and Dorcas inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Whatever Voldemort had seen in Snape's head, it must have been satisfying enough: there would be no reason he would wait to kill Severus in a private setting. His cover was safe – as long as Voldemort did not decide to enter _her _head as well, in which case, they were screwed.

Dorcas knew Occlumency, true, but she didn't have Severus' skill, and right now, her emotions were all over the place, which meant her mind must be an open book. But to her relief, the Dark Lord made no move to do invade her thoughts. Severus was safe.

"Of course," Severus said, bowing once more before stepping back into the circle of Death Eaters. Dorcas took a deep breath, meeting the Dark Lord's eyes squarely. This was it... The only question now was how much Voldemort would torture her before he killed her...

For several long moments, the Dark Lord only stared at her. And then, he lifted his wand. _"Avada Kedavra,"_ he intoned dispassionately, and Dorcas couldn't believe her luck as the green curse sped towards her –

Dorcas' body fell to the floor, still, her brown eyes wide open in – was that shock and relief?

"Let this be a lesson to all of you: if you are harbouring any thoughts of eventually betraying me, let them go. For I_ will_ find out. And your deaths won't be as painless as Meadowes, that I assure you," the Dark Lord spoke coldly. "Bellatrix."

"Yes, my Lord," the witch simpered.

"Take Meadowes' body and dispose of it somewhere public."

"Can I play with her first?"

Severus forced himself not to flinch, to not react. Dorcas was gone – there was no soul in that body, it didn't _matter _if Bellatrix had some_ fun_ with it... but no matter how much he tried to convince himself, he could not stop his stomach from churning.

"No."

Inside, Severus nearly sobbed with relief.

Bellatrix pouted. "But – "

" – _I said no,"_ Voldemort repeated harshly. "But make sure it is evident her death came by my hand. I want to make sure the Order gets the message."

"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix muttered, sulking.

"Severus, come," Voldemort said, his black robes swirling around his legs as he left, opening a door at the other end of the chamber, revealing a smaller set of rooms. Severus entered them stiffly, standing completely still as the Dark Lord followed, closing the door behind him, watching as he began to pace back and forth.

"I trust I will not need to tell you to not take any _liberties_ in the future?" He said bitingly.

"No, my Lord," Severus said quietly.

Voldemort paused. "I admit, I am..._concerned_ that you let _feelings_ for Meadowes get in the way of telling me of your suspicions. Your first loyalties should always be to _me,_ Severus."

"I made a mistake," Severus confessed.

"Yes. But it could have been worse," Voldemort mused. "I am impressed you managed to limit Meadowes' knowledge of our operations." Severus inclined his head wordlessly. "And to use her to find out information of Lily Potter...tssk...you seem to have a penchant for getting obsessed with women, Severus. Red-heads in particular." Severus did not react, even as the Dark Lord's red eyes glinted with amusement. "Your thoughts made it clear you still want her, and don't worry: I made a promise she would be yours, and I intend to keep it."

"You are most generous," Severus mumbled.

"Yes." The Dark Lord grinned widely. "It is almost sad to see how predictable you are, Severus. Women will be your undoing. Still, it is good to know something is constant. Your lust for Lily Potter and the need to dominate her seem to be two of those things, your little fling with Meadowes notwithstanding."

"Now, with Meadowes revealed to be a traitor, I find myself in need of someone who can do the work she was supposed to: spy on the Order, Dumbledore in particular. And since you seem to fancy yourself a secret agent, what with your attempts to use Meadowes and discern her true colours, _you_ are the person that will take her place."

Severus stared. "Me?"

"Yes. And what's more, I'm going to tell you _exactly_ how you're going to do it: not only has yet another Defence Against the Dark Arts professor resigned from Hogwarts, but Horace Slughorn has finally retired. This means the position for Head of Slytherin is open, along with the teaching posts for Potions and Defence. I want you to apply: I don't care which of the two you end up teaching as long as you're hired as Head of Slytherin. With you entrenched at Hogwarts, it will put you in a perfect position to spy on Dumbledore, and as Head of Slytherin, you will be able to influence a whole new generation of children to our way of thinking." The Dark Lord looked extremely satisfied with himself.

Severus couldn't quite stop the grimace that crossed his face. "_Children?"_ he repeated, the distaste obvious.

"Yes. Children. Do you have a problem with this?"

"No," Severus said sourly, knowing better than to argue with the Dark Lord.

"Excellent," the Dark Lord said. "You may leave." He waved his hand and Severus quickly departed the room, the Dark Lord's chuckles ringing in his ears.

* * *

Immediately after he left Voldemort, Severus apparated to Hogsmeade and had to immediately avert his eyes when he saw Dorcas' body – relieved of any clothing - strung up by her arms to a flagpost. People were gathered around it, and he saw Minerva McGonagall and Madame Rosmerta work to get her down, tears in both their eyes.

Above her head, the Dark Mark could be seen, along with the words _'A TRAITOR'S INEVITABLE FATE - Lord Voldemort.'_

Shuddering, he pulled up his hood and hurried up the road leading towards Hogwarts. Just as he reached the castle entrance, the double doors opened, revealing a sad-looking Dumbledore. "Severus. I was just on my way down to Hogsmeade...but let's go up to my office. I believe I will want to see your recent memory for myself."

"You've heard, then?" Severus said, surprising himself with how hoarse his voice sounded, falling into step with the Headmaster as they made their way through the empty corridors in the castle to Dumbledore's office.

"Yes...Minerva was at the Three Broomsticks when Bellatrix showed up with her..._message._ She immediately sent me a Patronus." There was no need to elaborate. "Did he make her suffer much?" the Headmaster added after a short pause.

Severus shook his head. "It was...surprisingly quick."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I am glad to hear it. What happened?"

Severus shrugged. "The Dark Lord found out about her true allegiance. He's not the only one with traitors in his midst." He gave Dumbledore a meaningful glance and the older man sighed.

"It seems not. So it is confirmed."

"_It was already confirmed,"_ Severus said harshly. "Both myself and Dorcas informed you of it. And how did your traitor, whoever it is, find out about Dorcas' true loyalties anyway? I thought you had told only a selected few to keep what just happened from happening."

For a moment, Dumbledore looked shamefaced. "I made a revelation to the entire Order as a whole a couple of weeks ago."

"You did _what?" _Severus asked, voice low and filled with disbelief, hoping that he had heard wrong.

"It was a risk, but I hoped you and Dorcas were mistaken about there being a traitor in the Order – that Voldemort spread it as a rumour to make himself seem more powerful." At Severus' expression, Dumbledore added: "I admit that sometimes my need to see the best in people doesn't always work out."

Severus laughed harshly. "You must be joking. You're telling me you decided to gamble with Dorcas' life – and by extension my own – because you _didn't want to believe_ one of your dear Order-members might have turned? Did you think so little of our abilities to bring you vital information that you found us to be so expendable?"

'_Everyone is expendable,'_ Dumbledore thought sadly. Out loud, he said: "I made a mistake – it happens to the best of men."

"You can't _afford _to make mistakes," Severus said, breathing heavily through his nose. "You're the so called _leader of the light._ People trust you!_ I _have put my trust in you! I thought the Dark Lord was bad, but at least I _expect _him to stab me in the back eventually. And now I find out you might do it as well, whenever you think it will serve _the Greater Good?"_

"You are wrong," Dumbledore said, his voice heavy. "Liquorice," he added. They had reached the gargoyle statue guarding the revolving stairs to his office, and upon hearing the password, it immediately jumped aside. They rode the stairs to the office in silence. Once there, Dumbledore pulled out his pensieve, and without needing to be prompted, Severus immediately pulled out a strand of memory from his head, discarding it into the basin. "Do you want to enter with me?" Dumbledore asked.

"No," Severus said shortly, looking away. The Headmaster nodded, and dipped his face into the pensieve, his body disappearing.

The clock ticked away, and for Severus, it seemed to be an eternity before the Headmaster reappeared in his office, looking contemplative. "I am impressed, Severus. If it can be said that one good thing came from Dorcas' death, it is that it allowed you to advance your own standing and establish your loyalty firmly in Voldemort's mind. And _of course_ I will hire you as the new Potions professor and the new Head of Slytherin House: that will make it a lot easier for you to report to me on Voldemort's doings."

"I was hoping you would give me the Defence post rather than the one for Potions," Severus admitted.

"Oh, I'm afraid I cannot do that," Dumbledore said lightly. "I need you to last longer than a year. The Defence post is cursed, as I'm sure you know."

"Very well," Severus said. "Is there anything else? Or may I leave?"

"You may - feel free to use my floo," Dumbledore offered. "And now I really need to get down to Hogsmeade...I have no doubt there will be Aurors there by now. Will you come to Dorcas' funeral?"

"No," Severus said shortly, moving over to Dumbledore's fireplace and throwing in a handful of floo-powder. "How could I explain my presence? Unless, of course, you decide to make another gamble and tell everyone I am your spy as well," he added sarcastically as he stepped into the fire._ "Spinner's End,"_ he said and disappeared in a flash of green flame, not giving Dumbledore a chance to respond.

* * *

"Can I look now?" Buffy asked, her eyes closed tightly as Remus led her into the kitchen.

"Alright," Remus answered, and Buffy slowly opened her eyes, gasping as she caught sight of the romantic setting. The worn kitchen table was covered in a red silk cloth, there were candles lit and a heavenly aroma now reached Buffy's nose from the bowls of food on the table.

"Re...this is wonderful! What's the occasion?"

"Oh, nothing special," Remus lied, while fingering the ring box in his pocket. It had been a month and half since he bought it and he felt it was high time he 'popped the question' before Buffy found the ring on her own. Proposing over a candlelit home cooked dinner for two might be slightly cliché but it was also an old classic and from the expression on Buffy's face, he could tell she was appreciating the setting.

Buffy grinned as Remus pulled out a chair for her. "This is so romantic, Re. Are you sure there's nothing special going on? No anniversary or something I've forgotten?"

"No. I just wanted to let you know how much I love you," Remus said honestly as he sat down and Buffy's smile widened.

"I already know that."

"Well, a romantic gesture has never hurt anyone," Remus said, while moving to pull up the ring. At first he had planned to wait until after dinner, but he honestly didn't think he would last that long without turning into a nervous, gibbering mess. "Buffy, I – "

The sound of the fireplace flaring up interrupted him, and Sirius' voice was heard: "Buffy! Moony! Are you there?" Buffy and Remus exchanged looks, and Remus quickly stuffed ring-box back into his pocket.

Standing up, they moved into the living room, and immediately spotted Sirius' head in the fireplace, his expression sad.

"What is it, Pads?" Remus asked.

"Dorcas is dead," Sirius said bluntly and Remus rocked back in shock even as Buffy numbly sank down on their threadbare sofa. "Bellatrix strung her body up in Hogsmeade less than two hours ago. We think Voldemort killed her."

"He must have found out about her being a spy..." Buffy breathed out in horror. "How?"

"Someone from the Order must have told him." Sirius gave Remus a hostile look, and Remus' heart became even heavier as he realised what his friend was wordlessly insinuating. He had thought Sirius was over his suspicion...but apparently not.

"Dumbledore should never have told everyone about her status," Buffy said bitterly.

"No," Sirius agreed. "He shouldn't have. Anyway, I just flooed to let you know. Dumbledore assigned me as messenger boy for everyone." His head disappeared and Buffy and Remus exchanged looks. The romantic atmosphere was completely obliterated, thoughts of dinner, and in Remus case, a proposal, forgotten, as grief took its place.

* * *

**15 July**

Benjy Fenwick was a man of habit, something the war had not changed – if anything, it had only made him more determined to keep going the way he always had been: Voldemort and his Death Eaters could wreak as much havoc as they liked, but that was no reason to change things in his life. To Benjy, that was the same as letting them win.

Still, Benjy realised the danger in being predictable, and the need for caution had become even more apparent since Dorcas' murder. She had been the first Order member to die – and hadn't that been a wakeup call? Somehow, most of the people in the Order had managed to convince themselves that they were invincible, but Dorcas' death had been a sharp reminder of their own mortality: they weren't safe. And with rumours of a spy in their own camp, something that had more or less been confirmed with Dorcas' death, Benjy had decided that keeping to his routines weren't worth his life - and yet, here he stood.

It was the height of irony, Benjy thought to himself. Normally, on Wednesdays, Benjy went running in Hyde Park after work, something he had started after Buffy began to train the Order in physical fitness. However, this Wednesday, Benjy had thought 'better safe than sorry' and had instead gone to James Park some distance away. He had only let a few people – people he had thought he could trust - know of his plans when he'd suggested they joined him...

And yet here he was, surrounded by Death Eaters on all sides. One of those he had told must have betrayed his whereabouts. The question was who: Remus, Peter, Sirius, Sturgis or one of the Prewett twins? None of them seemed likely to be the traitor. To Benjy's surprise – and relief – none of the Death Eater's made a move to attack the muggles also in the park, though the group was given some strange looks by them. Though none of them wore masks, wizarding robes weren't exactly inconspicuous.

"Benjy Fenwick," one of the Death Eaters, with a pale face with protruding cheekbones, spoke. Benjy wondered if he was the one in charge since he had spoken first.

"That depends on who's asking," Benjy said flippantly, fingering his wand while glancing from one Death Eater to the other. He wouldn't be able to defeat all four before they managed to kill him - but perhaps he could bring one or two down with him...

The Death Eater smiled. "I am Mulciber."

Benjy swallowed. According to Dumbledore, who must have gotten the information from Dorcas before she'd been killed, there were two Death Eaters called Mulciber in Voldemort's ranks: both were considered high-level Death Eaters, and one had even attended school with Voldemort. The other, his son, was younger, and clearly the one standing in front of him. One of them was also rumoured to specialise in the Imperius Curse...was this that same Mulciber? Were they going to cast that on him, and force him to reveal information about the Order? Or were they going to make him kill his friends?

The Imperius curse had already caused extreme horrors in the war, the details of which were not released to the public and only known amongst certain people in the Ministry. Benjy only knew because it had been a subject brought up at an Order meeting, several years before, once the Unforgivable first began to be used, as a warning to the members to be careful and as an example of the things Voldemort did and sanctioned.

Families had been torn apart, minds broken, by the curse, as people were controlled and made to do unspeakable things to those they loved: fathers could be forced to rape their daughters, mothers forced to slit their own sons' throats, siblings forced to slowly kill themselves in front of each other, and lovers forced to bludgeon their partner to death. If there was one spell Benjy Fenwick truly feared, it was the Imperius curse and what the caster would make him do.

"I see you've heard of me." He turned to look at his fellow three Death Eaters. "With me are Avery, Rosier and Nott."

"Enough with the pleasantries," the one called Nott spat. "Why are you telling him who we are?"

"It's not like he's going to get the chance to_ tell _anybody," Evan Rosier said, leaning his head on Avery's shoulder. "Right, love?"

Avery smirked. "You are correct as always," he said, reaching up with a hand to caress Evan's thick hair.

"Stop it, you two," Nott snarled. "You're making a scene." And true enough, some of the passing muggles gave the two Death Eaters disgusted looks, hurrying away. Others stopped for a moment to stare in fascination.

"Now, Nott, don't be such a sourpuss. There's no reason to take your frustration over your wife's recent death out on us," Rosier, sniggered.

Nott glared. "Let's not forget where we are and who we are representing. The Dark Lord gave us a mission."

"Nott is quite right," Mulciber said, and somewhat reluctantly, Avery and Rosier turned their attention back to Benjy. During their conversation, the Order member had made an attempt to apparate away, without success: one of the Death Eater's must have put up an anti-apparation ward on the park._ "Imperio," _Mulciber intoned, pointing his wand at Benjy, sounding almost bored.

A floating sensation took hold of Benjy and all of his thoughts and worries disappeared, being slowly replaced with gentle euphoria. His tense stance relaxed, his wand nearly slipping from his suddenly limp fingers. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Mulciber's voice echo: _Go to the Order...kill as many Order members as you can..._

Benjy began to move, only distantly aware of the four people blocking his way moving aside. He had already walked several feet when another voice, more nagging, appeared: _Don't. Why would you want to do that? They're your friends... _His walk slowed.

The four Death Eaters watched in satisfaction as Benjy began to walk away from them. "Excellent job as always," Avery said with a wide grin, clapping Mulciber on the back. "The Dark Lord will be pleased."

Mulciber, however, was frowning. "Something is wrong," he muttered. "He's slowing down..." Just as the words left his lips, Fenwick stopped completely, swaying slightly on the spot. "He's beating the curse!" Mulciber spat angrily in disbelief and raised his wand again. _"IMPERIO,"_ he repeated, his voice stronger, more insistent this time. Once again, the spell hit Fenwick. For a few seconds, it seemed like the spell had taken effect: Fenwick continued to walk away, but then, he stumbled, grasping his head and falling to his knees. "Impossible..." Mulciber's eyes were wide in incredulity and he lowered his wand in shock.

All four Death Eaters could only stare, as Fenwick got to his feet and on slightly unbalanced legs, he turned to face them, his eyes clear and free from any sign of Mulciber's curse. For a moment, it looked like he was debating with himself on what to do: then, he turned and began to run, firing spells over his shoulder, and the Death Eaters swore as they were forced to duck.

"How did he do it?" Rosier asked, his voice filled with reluctant admiration.

"I don't know," Mulciber bit out, seeing Fenwick managing to overcome his Unforgivable as a personal insult.

"He's getting away!" Avery shouted angrily, while sending off a purple curse towards Benjy, who jumped out of the way, seemingly instinctively as he wasn't even looking at them.

"That cannot be allowed," Nott said grimly.

"Well, since he seems to be able to fight my Imperius, that means he is useless to us alive," Mulciber said. "On three, cast the most powerful blasting curse you know – one, two, three - "

Four curses sped towards Benjy – one, he managed to evade, but the other three impacted with his back...

* * *

When Sirius arrived with Moody and a few other Aurors, the Ministry having been alerted to a Dark Mark cast above the muggle park, he immediately heaved up his dinner when he caught sight of the remnants of what had once been Benjy Fenwick: bits and pieces.

* * *

At the same time as Benjy Fenwick met his death, eight other Death Eaters had gathered outside a suburban home. Hidden under invisibility and disillusionment spells, they worked quickly and efficiently to take down the many wards around the house. It was extremely easy: somehow, the Dark Lord had known exactly how many and which wards and protection spells the house was under.

"Hurry up now," one of the Death Eaters, Travers, whispered. "We need this to coincide perfectly with the other attack on Fenwick in that park."

"We know, Travers," another, older Death Eater said, his aristocratic voice smooth and calming. "You don't need to worry: this is not my first day on the job you know."

"It _better_ go off without a hitch," Travers said darkly. "The Dark Lord is counting on us."

Mulciber – Mulciber senior - began to look slightly annoyed at Travers presumptuous air. "And he picked _me_ to lead this mission, not you, Travers," he spoke up.

"For some unfathomable reason," Travers muttered, resentment clear in his voice.

"Oh, he's going to get it now," a third Death Eater sniggered.

"Shut up, Gibbon," a fourth muttered, glancing anxiously at Mulciber.

Mulciber's attention, however, had not left Travers, and now he let an eyebrow rise: "Are you questioning the Dark Lord?" he asked.

Travers' eyes widened innocently. "Of course not. I am just trying to hurry things along."

"Then stop interrupting and help the others with the wards. Since you seem so eager to get them down," Mulciber added with a smirk.

Travers made a rather ugly grimace in Mulciber's direction when the man turned away, the gesture looking rather obscene considering the man's age. Thoroughly amused, Gibbon began to snigger. This time, however, Mulciber noticed, and quickly turned back to them. Travers hastily arranged his face into a neutral expression, while Gibbon swallowed a final chuckle.

But it seemed as though nothing escaped Mulciber's notice. "Do not forget, Travers, that there are more members from the inner-circle here than you and I, and I expect I will have their full backing when I report to the Dark Lord about this once we are done here."

Travers blanched. "Now, there's no need to be hasty – "

"Then get to work and start acting your age," Mulciber said coldly. "From the way you're behaving, I'm expecting you to announce you're really an uneducated muggle who's only playing at being a wizard any second." Gibbon burst into renewed sniggers, this time joined by the fourth Death Eater. "That goes for you too, Gibbon, Jugson," Mulciber said and the two abruptly fell silent.

For a few minutes, the three Death Eaters worked in silence together with the four other Death Eaters at the scene, Mulciber keeping watch. But then... "No, you idiot!" Jugson hissed to Gibbon. "If you disengage that anchoring rune with that spell, you'll set off an alarm so loud you'll wake the entire neighbourhood!"

"Oh, shut up! I know what I'm doing," Gibbon hissed. Then... "But in this instance, you might be right," he added grudgingly after a moment.

Jugson smirked. "Like I said."

Gibbon stuck out his tongue. "Know-it-all."

Three seconds later, Gibbon and Jugson were gibbering like children, and Mulciber sighed, exchanging tired looks with the Lestrange brothers. "Can you make them shut up and concentrate?" He asked them, his voice low and drawn. "Truly, I almost expected this kind of behaviour from Gibbon, but from Jugson..." he shook his head.

Rodolphus nodded. "They're giving me a headache, too," he said, then turned his attention to the two bickering Death Eaters. "Both of you, be quiet, or invisibility spells or not, we will be discovered."

"Aww, are you missing Bellatrix, '_Dolphie?"_ Gibbon mocked, happy to get a new target to pick on. "Sad she wasn't allowed on this mission?"

Rodolphus Lestrange threw him a disgusted look. "Unlike you I know when to be professional and how to separate business and pleasure," he said coldly. "I am quite aware that having Bellatrix on this mission would be disastrous, considering we are trying to keep a low profile. I might love my wife, but I am quite aware that she doesn't know the meaning of the word _'discreet.'_"

His brother, Rabastan, put a calming hand on his shoulder. "Just ignore him. Clearly, Gibbon needs a few more missions under his belt before he grows up."

Gibbon spluttered.

"That's the last ward," Travers interrupted, and the final two Death Eaters who had been silent so far – both of them new to Voldemort's ranks - grinned in anticipation.

Mulciber let a satisfied smile show at last. "Excellent."

"Do you think they've noticed their protections are down yet?" Jugson asked curiously, twirling his wand.

Rabastan threw an almost bored look through a nearby window. "No. They're having dinner."

"Well, then I believe it's just about time for the dessert," Jugson said, raising his wand in anticipation.

"Just a moment," Mulciber interrupted. "Like Rodolphus reminded us, this mission calls for discretion." A sinister smile appeared on his aristocratic face. "Let us knock on the door, like...civilised people."

All eight Death Eaters chuckled evilly and let their disillusionment spells drop. Half of them moved to the front door, while the other half went to the back.

'DING-DONG.'

Marlene McKinnon stopped in the middle of a sentence as she heard the doorbell ring.

"I'LL GET IT!" Her daughter shouted excitedly, jumping down from her chair.

Marlene's husband, Ian, chuckled, knowing whoever their visitor was, it must be a friend: only people in the Order Marlene was a member of could get past their wards unharmed. And muggles were completely unaffected by them. Anyone else could expect to be shocked to kingdom come if they came within ten feet of the house. "Are you expecting company, love?" he asked her but Marlene shook her head.

They could hear Chelsea open the door now. "Who are you?" They heard her asking.

"Your worst nightmare," a deep voice said, and Ian and Marlene immediately jumped up, looks of alarm on both their faces. But it was too late._ "AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ They heard a voice shout, and then came the dull thud a body made when it hit the floor.

"CHELSEA!" Marlene screamed and began to run towards the hall, but Ian held her back, his face deathly pale.

"We can't do anything for her," he said, his voice trembling. "Where is your wand?" Marlene stared at him blankly, still in deep shock. "Marlene, _where is your wand?" _Ian repeated, shaking his wife. Finally, Marlene woke herself up from her stupor, and pulled her wand out from its holster.

"Is anybody home?" Another voice sing-songed.

"We'll escape through the backdoor," Ian decided, since he had no idea how many Death Eaters there were. His wife, however, disagreed.

"Like hell we are," Marlene spat. "I am not running like a coward from those monsters – they killed our daughter!"

Before Ian could react, Marlene had torn herself out of his arms and headed towards the hall. Upon spotting her, the three Death Eaters immediately sent spells towards her through the open hall door, but Marlene ducked to the side. "THERE'S ONLY FOUR OF THEM!" she yelled for her husband to hear, her eyes burning with a need to get revenge for her daughter's death.

"Actually, you are wrong, my dear," she heard one of the Death Eaters chuckle. "There are eight of us."

Marlene froze. "What – "

The sound of the backdoor exploding reached her ears. Two seconds later, Ian came running towards her. "There's four more coming from that way," he panted, pointing towards the book of the house. He sent a spell towards the hall door which made it flow off its hinges and towards the three Death Eaters in the hall, followed by a spell that made the air thicken, making it almost impossible for them to see and even breathe. The Death Eaters swore.

Marlene swallowed, while sending in spells into the now misty hall, hoping at least one or two would hit a target. "Then we make our stand here," she said grimly, knowing they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. With four Death Eaters in front of them and four behind them, she knew it was highly unlikely she and Ian would get out alive.

Ian nodded grimly, coming to the same realisation as his wife. "I'll see you on the other side," he said, squeezing her hand as they got into position, back to back, Marlene facing the front hall and Ian the kitchen towards the back.

"And Chelsea." Marlene's voice trembled.

"And Chelsea," Ian agreed.

* * *

When the Aurors showed up, they found the inside of the McKinnon's house had been blasted to pieces. The body of young Chelsea McKinnon was found in the hall, buried under the remnants of a door, her eyes wide and surprised. Less than a foot away laid the head of a dead Death Eater: his body had been found on the outer stairs. Upon reaching the area between the hall and the kitchen, they found the bodies of Marlene and Ian McKinnon, their wands still in their cool hands. Later investigation showed that Ian had been hit with the Avada Kedavra, while Marlene had died by a blood-boiling curse.

In the kitchen entrance, they found another dead Death Eater, his entrails spilling out of his gut. From the blood tracks on the floor and the way one of his arms were stretched out, it seemed he had tried to drag himself away from the battle after being hit.

It was impossible to say how many Death Eaters attacked the McKinnon's, but considering their family's reputation as one of the most powerful wizards of their time, it was likely that You-Know-Who would not risk sending any less than five or six. Either way, they had gone out fighting, in defence of each other.

* * *

"I am...displeased," was the first words out of the Dark Lord's mouth once Travers left his report. "The group ambushing Fenwick in the park was a lot more successful, even if they were forced to deviate from their plan when the Imperius proved ineffective. Tell me how it is possible that of the eight followers I sent to the McKinnon's home - of which at least four can be considered part of my elite - only six returns?"

Travers looked down at the floor, hating that he was the one who had to explain things to the Dark Lord, even though_ Mulciber _had been the one in charge. But the lucky bastard was in the hospital wing... "They were...stronger than we expected, my Lord," he finally muttered. He just knew that if he had been the one to lead the mission, everything would have been faultless.

"They shouldn't have been _that _strong," Voldemort spat. "I gave you a very detailed description on their wards and how to bypass them. I even gave you a bloody _map_ of the inside of the house! I warned you that they were powerful. I practically handed them to you gift wrapped! And yet two of my new Death Eaters, two who took a long time to recruit, are dead. Gibbon is bedbound for at least a month, Mulciber had half his bones broken, Jugson will be lucky if he regains his sight in his left eye, and you three are amongthe most_ pathetic_ sight I've ever seen."

Travers glanced at Rodolphus and Rabastan. Like himself, their robes were in a bedraggled state, they were covered in dust, scratches and open wounds, their blood dripping onto the Dark Lord's floor. Unlike himself, however, both Rabastan and Rodolphus held their heads high, looking squarely ahead.

"What kind of half-arsed plan did you come up with?" the Dark Lord demanded to know, snarling.

"_I_ didn't come up with anything!" Travers defended himself. "It was Mulciber's plan! It's not _my_fault – "

" – I don't want to hear excuses," the Dark Lord hissed.

"It actually _was _Mulciber's plan, my Lord," Rodolphus admitted. "But it was not a bad plan at all: he made sure both the front and back exit were covered, with four of us at each position – "

"Who went with who?" The Dark Lord interrupted.

"I went through the back," Travers spoke up again. "Jugson, Rabastan and one of the new recruits went with me. Mulciber took Rodolphus, Gibbon and the other new recruit through the front. I can only apologise for our failure, my Lord," he continued. "But we did succeed in our mission."

Voldemort snarled. "There shouldn't have been any casualties! I sent eight of you for that very reason!"

Travers swallowed. "But like you said, two of us – the two who died – were new. Once the spells began to fly, they panicked, making it more difficult for the rest of us to accomplish what we had come to do. They were only a hindrance, my Lord."

"Is this true?" the Dark Lord asked, turning his red eyes to the Lestrange brothers.

"Partly," Rabastan was the first to speak. "One of them got taken out immediately – a beheading spell, I believe. At that point, Gibbon lost it and walked out from his cover, making it easy for the McKinnon's to hit him. And so, we were down to six Death Eaters almost right away."

"So it was Gibbon's lack of discipline that ruined things for you...I see. He will be dealt with – once he can leave his bed. Still, six against two..." Voldemort tssked.

"The other new Death Eater you sent with us panicked when he saw his compatriot lose his head,"(1) Rodolphus continued his brother's explanation. "He began to throw spells everywhere, without aiming so we were forced to not only block the McKinnon's spell barrage, but his as well. One of them hit Mulciber," Rodolphus continued with a grimace. "After that, he wasn't in any state to help. At that point, since I was the only one still standing in the front hall, I made the decision to try and take the panicked idiot out with a stunner, but one of the McKinnon's took him down first."

Rabastan took over: "And when he tried to drag himself away, he grabbed one of Jugson's ankles – that's when one of the McKinnon's curses hit him in the face: Jugson was literally being held to one spot and couldn't move aside."

"While that was going on, one of Travers' killing curses hit Ian McKinnon," Rodolphus said. "A second later, I hit the other McKinnon with a blood-boiling curse."

"And then we hightailed it out of there with our injured," Travers finished. "After we sent up a Dark Mark, of course."

The Dark Lord looked like he was on the verge of asking something else when the doors to the throne room flew open, and Bellatrix entered, immediately making a beeline for her husband. "'Dolphie! What happened?" she asked, pulling at the front of his robes. "You look awful! And you're bleeding!"

"Bella, get your husband and Rabastan to the hospital wing," Voldemort said, sounding bored. Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers immediately left, Bella cooing over her husband's injuries all the while.

Travers stood alone in the throne room.

"Travers..." The Dark Lord sighed and Travers fidgeted nervously, still thinking it very unfair that he was left to take all the heat. 'I _broke through the last ward! _I _killed one of the McKinnon's!_ I_ was still standing at the end! _I_ made sure everyone – including Mulciber – got out!' _The more he thought about it, the more unfair he thought it was.

"With two of my most senior followers on the mission, I expected ," the Dark Lord continued, "I cannot deny that there were...factors beyond your control, so you are excused, even though you should have had a backup plan. And don't think me unfair – I will speak to Mulciber as well. And you will get the chance to make up for your group's abysmal performance within due time – I am planning more attacks."

"Based on information from the same source as this time, my Lord?" Travers asked, his anger calming slightly.

"Yes." Voldemort allowed one corner of his lips to lift slightly: for once, Pettigrew had proven useful. "Now get out." He abruptly wiped the smile from his face. "You're dripping blood all over my floor."

"Yes, my Lord."

* * *

Lily sniffed and looked up from her curled up position on the bed when she heard the bedroom door opened as James entered. "Is Harry asleep?" she asked, her voice hoarse from crying nearly non-stop for hours.

"Yes," James said, sitting down at the end of the bed beside his wife. "How are you holding up?"

Lily shrugged. "Awfully. I can't believe Marlene is gone... When Dumbledore flooed with the news..." She shook her head at loss for words. "It just seems like there's one Order-death after another lately. And now the Death Eaters even target their families - Chelsea McKinnon was just a child! How does Voldemort know where to find them?"

James' eyes darkened. "A spy. We had one in Dorcas – it's not that strange Voldemort would have one as well. Come to think of it, though it was a couple of weeks in between, Dorcas was only killed after Dumbledore revealed her position as a spy within Voldemort's ranks to the entire Order."

"Who could betray us like that?" Lily asked quietly, sitting up.

James looked away. "I prefer not to speculate. Nothing good will come of it – only more distrust."

"I suppose you're right," Lily frowned thoughtfully. "Can't Dumbledore just force everyone to touch that spelled orb that admitted us to the Order again? I mean, it was made to ascertain our loyalty, wasn't it?"

"I suggested it when I last talked to Dumbledore, but apparently, it only works once for each person," James said grimly. "Something about our personal imprint being absorbed into it – I didn't really understand all of it."

Lily sighed. "Well, it was an idea at least." She abruptly jerked backwards when she accidentally caught sight of herself in the mirror on the opposite side of the room. "Merlin, I look a right mess," she muttered as she took in her mussed hair, and snotty nose, her cheeks covered in tear streaks and her eyes red-rimmed and puffy.

James turned to look at her, a tender expression on his face. "You're beautiful," he said, caressing a few strands of her red hair between his fingers.

Lily let out a slight laugh. "Well, they do say love is blind. Your taste is awful."

"I'll have you know my taste is_ impeccable," _James countered and leaned forward until their foreheads met, reaching up a hand to caress her left cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "I fell in love with you, didn't I?"

Lily laughed again. "Yes, you did." Pulling away from James, she bit her lip and looked up at him from under tear-covered lashes. "Love me?" she asked while pulling off her top.

James smiled, his hands softly stroking the skin on Lily's bare arms and shoulders, making her shiver. "Always," he answered, utter adoration in his hazel eyes as he leaned forwards and captured her lips with his.

For the moment, at least, pain and loss was forgotten.

* * *

**********__****Published: **_06__/09 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Dorcas' death, or rather that Voldemort is the one to kill her personally, is canon, which is pointed out by Moody in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix chapter 9. Because he specifically pointed out Voldemort was the one to kill her, I came to the conclusion Dorcas opposition to him must have been rather significant - from that, I came up with the idea to make her the Order's spy in his camp.

- Why Dumbledore's body disappears when he enters the pensieve: there are a lot of theories of what happens to your body while you're inside the pensive - is it only your mind that enters while your body is left behind, or does your entire body somehow get transported into the memory. For this story, I decided on the latter after theorising back and forth. A good discussion thread on it can be found here: .com(slash)archive(slash) (slash)

- We learn in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince chapter 2 that Severus applied for professorship at Hogwarts on Voldemort's orders.

- The disgusted looks thrown by the muggles due to Evan Rosier's and Avery's affectionate display is obviously due to the negative view on homosexuality - a controversial subjects among some people even today, and even more so back in the 1980s.

- Moody says about Benjy Fenwick in Order of the Phoenix chapter 9 that they only ever found 'bits of him' which is how I came up with his death, making it canon-compliant.

- The McKinnon's death-scene: since Hagrid mentioned they were among the most powerful wizards of all time, I decided that Voldemort sending several Death Eaters to take them out made the most sense - numbers beats power, at least in this instance. We learn that Igor Karkaroff implicated Travers as one of the people who was behind their murder in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which is I put him in the group.

- We learn that Lily "cried all day" when she heard of the McKinnon's murder from her letter Harry finds in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

1) _Pun definitely intended ._


	22. Children

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**22 July**

"You have pleased me, Wormtail", Voldemort said.

Peter jerked back in shock. "I-I have, master?" he squeaked out, so used to failing the Dark Lord that any praise took him by surprise.

"Yes. You should very proud of yourself. Your information in regards to Dumbledore's Order members has been sound and we have dealt those who oppose us a serious blow."

Peter's cheeks reddened with pride. "I-I only aim to please you, my Lord."

"Good. I am…_thrilled_ that you seem to have found the right motivation to succeed in my ranks at last...even though I wish you had shown this kind of aptitude from the beginning," the Dark Lord added.

Peter's face reddened again, this time from embarrassment. "I won't let you down again, my Lord."

Voldemort's thin lips curled in amusement. "I know you won't, Peter. Now, while killing random Order members are good for our cause, what I really need is to get to the Longbottoms and the Potters." Peter swallowed. "I know where they are, of course, but to get to them is another question. Do you know how to get past the wards on their respective manors?"

"N-no, master", Peter whispered. "B-but I'm not certain James – I-I mean the Potters – are still living at the Potter manor at all."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Well, figure it out, then. In the meantime, any information in regards to the other Order members would be greatly appreciated. Prove that your success this time wasn't due to some sort of fluke."

Peter bowed deeply. "Yes, my Lord."

* * *

**31 July**

"Should we really wake him, James?" Lily whispered anxiously, her head resting against James' shoulder as they both peered into Harry's nursery. Harry was lying on his belly in his crib, his thumb firmly stuck in his mouth, even in sleep.

"It's his birthday", James whispered. "It's tradition to wake your kids up on your birthday with presents."

Lily sighed. "I suppose… But no presents until after breakfast!" James pouted and Lily laughed. "You do know it's _Harry's_ birthday, not yours, right?" she teased gently.

Neither of them noticed Harry's eyes had slowly blinked open while they talked, their voices waking him from his sleep.

"Of course I do!" James huffed. "I'm just excited for him!"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Of course you are. Sometimes, I wonder who the child is in this family…"

James grinned smugly. "No child would do what I did to you last night…"

Lily gasped scandalously, her cheeks burning red. "James! We're in Harry's room!"

James chuckled. "He's asleep, Lils, don't wor – "

"Dada…"

Lily and James both froze at the sound of Harry's sleepy voice.

Lily let a challenging eyebrow rise. "You were saying?"

"It's not like he understood me!" James defended himself while the two parents walked up to Harry's crib.

"It's the principle of the thing!" Lily countered. Harry was standing up and holding his arms out for someone to pick him up. "Are you really going to argue with me on this, James?" she asked, while she lifted Harry. "We both know how that will end."

James sighed, mock-sadly. "Unfortunately." He gave Harry a serious look. "Don't marry a red-head, Harry. A) They'll never let you win, and b) they will likely wear the pants in the relationship, no matter how much you like to pretend otherwise." Harry only grinned sleepily while grabbing a fistful of Lily's red hair, staring at it seemingly in fascination. James gave him a look of despair. "But you're obviously a lost cause already."

"It's all because of your genes, dear", Lily said smugly. "Have you heard from Sirius?"

"Yeah, he can't make it. There's another Order meeting scheduled for today. It seems Moody is closing in on Karkaroff. But he sent a gift."

Lily nodded. "I wish we could attend. Being coped up here…" James and Lily hadn't left Godric's Hollow since they took the photograph for the Order. So soon after that, Dorcas had been killed, followed by Benjy, and Marlene's family. And it wasn't just Order members: the muggle population was also being targeted, their deaths covered up as just more victims of the racial riots taking place in England's major cities. Dumbledore had only discovered this information recently, even though it had apparently been going on ever since the riots started back in April.

Lily and James did not leave their home for anything, not even to attend Order meetings anymore: not with a traitor confirmed to be part of the group. Sirius usually delivered food and necessities and other than him, Bathilda Bagshot was their only visitor. All other contact occurred through owl-post, and even that was kept sparse.

"I know it's awful," James said, clearly frustrated. "But what else can we do? With a traitor confirmed in the Order, things are even more dangerous than before. Members are dying left and right, and I'd rather not be one of them." James was frustrated, not just because he couldn't leave the house – after all, the company could be far worse – but also because he felt like even with all the Order deaths, everyday that went by still felt like the calm before a great storm.

James was scared: even with all the wards and protection spells on the house, it didn't feel like it was enough. After all, Marlene's house had been heavily warded and the Death Eaters had still gotten through, and all signs pointed to them being taken completely by surprise. "Didn't Dumbledore promise he'd look into alternate precautions or something to that effect?"

Lily frowned. "He did. Though I'm still not sure what he meant by that."

"Foo!" Harry suddenly interrupted, pulling a bit at Lily's hair, clearly tired of waiting.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry, did we forget you?" Lily cooed at him. "Of course you'll get food."

"Don't you want your presents first, Harry?" James tried to entice him.

Lily gave him a glare. "I told you – no gifts until after breakfast."

"It's a crime to keep him waiting, Lils," James said in an attempt to change her mind, to no avail.

Lily snorted. "A crime to keep_ you _waiting, you mean. Harry's not even old enough to know what a birthday is, at any rate."

"But – "

Lily kissed him on the cheek as she walked out of the room, carrying Harry securely on her arm. "Don't pout. It's so unbecoming."

"You love my pouts," James muttered behind her back as he followed, and, like Lily had predicted, his lips turned up into a defiant pout.

Lily rolled her eyes, but she was unable to keep herself from smiling.

* * *

"Can Harry open his gifts now?" James asked eagerly about an hour later, after Harry had had his breakfast, brushed his teeth (both of them), and gotten dressed.

"Yes, James", Lily said patiently. Sometimes, she really felt like she was the mother of two toddlers, not just one. But she wouldn't have it any other way.

James grinned. Summoning Harry's gifts, their small family settled down on the floor to open them. The cat they had gotten from Bathilda that Christmas, which Lily had named Sammie, in memory of Samantha Lowell, eagerly ripped into the wrapping paper and ribbons. It didn't take long for Harry to join her, far more interested in the colorful paper the presents had arrived in, than the gifts themselves.

"Harry, look at this! It's from Joshua, remember him?" Lily said with an enticing tone as she opened the Slayer's gift for him. "It's a – oh, never mind, we're putting that away." She hurriedly slammed the lid to the gift box closed, shoving it under the table.

"What is it?"

"A stake. A very sharp wooden stake," Lily said, her smile forced. "Not an appropriate present for a one year old."

James chuckled. "He is a Slayer."

"But Harry_ isn't,"_ Lily said decisively. "And Buffy didn't get him anything so outrageous. Look: she and Remus sent a picture book!" She held it up. "It's colorful, educational, and what's more – completely child-friendly!"

"And you think that was _Buffy's _idea?" James muttered under his breath, convinced that if Buffy had decided the gift, it would have been a toy sword or something to that effect. Lily didn't hear him, busy trying to grab Harry's attention by waving the book in front of his face to make him look – without success.

"Perhaps we should have just gotten him a box with lots of wrapping paper," the redhead finally said ruefully, giving up.

James laughed. "You just haven't shown him the really _interesting_ presents yet."

"Like what?"

"This one, from Sirius, for example," James said, innocently holding up a suspiciously elongated box, the Quality Quidditch Supplies logo visible at the top.

"James, please don't tell me that's what I think it is," Lily said, her voice dangerously low.

"Alright, I won't tell you," James smirked, opening the box and pulling out a toy broomstick, holding it up in front of him. "Harry, look at this! Harry!"

Harry finally looked up from the wrappings, dropping the ribbon he was holding when he caught sight of the broom, his green eyes widening. As quickly as he could, the one year-old wobbled over to his dad, his mouth shaped into a small 'o' as he took in the broomstick. Then, he grinned, an expression echoed by his father.

Lily sighed, though her lips twitched with amusement when she saw Harry's adorable expression and obvious approval of Sirius' gift. "And so the Potter genes make themselves known once again. I swear, James, if you raise him to be some sort of Quidditch maniac, I'll – "

James interrupted her with a kiss that took her breath away. "You were saying?" James said smugly when he finally pulled away, leaving Lily breathless and starry-eyed.

"…Huh?" Lily said oh-so-eloquently.

Harry tugged at James shirt impatiently, a slight frown on his face. "Oh, don't worry, Harry, I haven't forgotten you," James said. "Or the broomstick."

Lily had indulgent smile on her lips as she grabbed the camera. "Well, if you're going to play with the broom, please be careful."

"Don't fret, Lily," James dismissed as he set the broom to hover above the floor and helped Harry up, the child eagerly grabbing hold. "The broomstick is specifically made for small children – there's nothing to worry a – no, wait!"

Harry had leaned forwards, and before James could react or grab hold of it, the broom zoomed forwards at a surprisingly fast speed, two feet off the ground. Harry let out a loud squeal of delight as the broom got going, James scrambling to catch up. Lily laughed and quickly snapped picture after picture.

"You're doing so well, Harry!" she cooed.

"Harry, slow down!" James exclaimed, once again launching himself forwards to grab hold of the broom, only to fall flat on his face when it swerved out of his reach. "Oomph!"

Sammie let out a loud screech, extending her claws, her fur standing up, as Harry and the broomstick nearly crashed into her. The white cat quickly ran to hide beneath the sofa, hissing angrily. Harry was roaring with laughter, and it only increased when he accidentally hit a vase, which smashed into several pieces when it hit the floor.

Finally, James, who had gotten up from the floor, managed to grab hold of the end of the broom, causing it to stop. Harry frowned at his dad, visibly pouting. James chuckled. "Slow down a bit, there, Harry. I didn't get a chance to check the speed on that thing."

"I think it was quite clear Harry was flying as fast as he could," Lily said dryly. "Like father like son."

James ruffled up his hair, laughing. "Yeah, I think he nearly gave poor Sammie a heart-attack."

"Fy!" Harry said, kicking his legs back and forth. "Fy!"

"It's seems he wants to go again, James," Lily's eyes twinkled. "Are you up for it?"

"Of course I am!" James scoffed. "Harry just took me by surprise!" He turned to beam at Harry. "You did so well, Harry! You're going to be an awesome Quidditch player! Seeker or Chaser for sure! Or perhaps a Beater, if the way you hit that vase is any indication!" Suddenly, he blanched. "Oh, yeah, the vase…" James rubbed his head sheepishly. "Sorry, Lily. Perhaps we should have packed down everything before we started."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Perhaps we should have, and we'll make sure to do that before Harry gets another go at flying, but if you ask me, that vase was no great loss. It's the one Petunia got me for Christmas, remember? Horrible thing. I'm actually grateful since it gives me a valid excuse to get rid of it."

"Fy!" Harry said again, visibly pouting.

"You'll have to wait, darling," Lily said, lifting him off the broom. "We have to pack away all the ornaments first, considering how fast you're flying…"

"Fy!" Harry insisted, trying to wiggle out of Lily's grip.

"I'll take him," James said, settling Harry on top of his lap and moving the broom aside, so Harry couldn't be distracted by it. "Hey, buddy, don't you want to look at the other pretty presents while your mother broom-proofs the room?"

"While_ I_ broom-proof the room?" Lily let an eyebrow rise.

"Someone's got to occupy Harry, and you're so much better at charms than I am," James said with innocent eyes.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Fine. Go play. I need to fix the cake as well anyway."

"Oh, Harry and I can fix the cake, can't we Harry?" James said, looking down at Harry.

"Yum!" Harry said, clapping his hands.

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this, but alright," Lily said with a defeated sigh. "Try not to blow up the kitchen. We're having Bathilda over for tea, later, remember?"

"Marauder's promise!" James said, dancing into the kitchen with a giggling Harry. "You won't regret this!"

"I'm regretting it already," Lily muttered, shaking her head, though her lips were stretched into a smile.

* * *

**6 August**

"Get in, you scum," Moody spat, pushing Igor Karkaroff into a holding cell at the Ministry, his expression self-satisfied as the cell doors slammed closed.

"I don't know who you think you are," Karkaroff snarled, "but you have no right to keep me here. I've done nothing – "

Moody barked out a laugh. "You were caught red-handed on the scene of a crime. And when the Ministry came knocking, you had already taken off running. The only thing you _haven't_ done this time is manage to get away with it, like all the other times you've been playing muggle butcher." The Auror leaned forward. "The public and the Ministry are out for blood, and when it is time for your trial, Crouch will make sure yours is going to run."

A panicked expression crossed the Death Eater's face for the first time, proving that his previous act of bravado had been just that - an act. In reality, he was really nothing more than a coward. "I-I'll make a deal! I-Ill give you names! Information! Anything you need! Just don't put me in Azkaban!"

"Who said anything about Azkaban?" Moody grinned widely. "It will be the Dementor's kiss for you."

"Now, there is no need to terrorise the man, Alastor," a voice from behind him said, and Moody turned around, surprised to see the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement standing there.

"One of my few joys in life and you're going to take it away?" Moody asked, grumbling. "It's taken me six months to catch this bastard."

"I know," Crouch said, an inscrutable expression on his face. "Igor Karkaroff. Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

Behind his bars, Karkaroff swallowed visibly. "The Dark Lord will free me," he said, his voice trembling slightly, realising there was no use denying his involvement with him.

"Oh, I think not. You're going to be transported to Azkaban, you see," Crouch said and Moody began to smirk.

"B-but I haven't had my trial!" Karkaroff spluttered.

"I know, and we need to make sure you don't go anywhere until then," Crouch said, speaking slowly, as if to a small child. "Azkaban is so much more secure than a Ministry holding cell."

Karkaroff swallowed. "D-didn't you hear me? I-I'll tell you everything I know – just don't send me to Azkaban."

For a long moment, Crouch only looked at Karkaroff. "I can't let you stay here - I'm afraid the security risk is too high: I have no choice but to put you in Azkaban until it's time for your trial. And if you're truly willing to give us information about He Who Must Not Be Named, you will get the chance to do so then. And if your information is of use to us, I am sure we can come to some sort of arrangement regarding your sentence."

Karkaroff's eyes widened, his mood visibly lightening.

"What are you doing?" Moody snarled harshly, grabbing Crouch's arm. "We don't make deals with Death Eaters!"

"Some of our morals will have to be sacrificed, Alastor, if we want to win this war," Crouch said coldly, shaking of his hand. "If Karkaroff is willing to sell out his fellow Death Eaters in exchange for a lighter sentence, then we will _happily_ accept. And by keeping him in Azkaban before his trial, we can rest assured that Karkaroff will be _very _motivated to tell us _everything _he knows so he won't have to end up there again. The presence of Dementors will do that to you."

"I don't like it," Moody said sourly.

Crouch let an eyebrow rise. "You don't have to," he said dispassionately. "Your job is to bring Death Eaters in, while mine is to decide what to do with them afterwards. You can disagree as much as you like, but that will never change."

* * *

**11 August**

"Headmaster!" Severus burst into the Headmaster's office, his robes swivelling behind him, his Death Eater mask in his hand.

"Ah, Severus." Dumbledore beamed. "How are your lesson-plans coming along? And did I ever thank you for informing me of Voldemort's part in the England riots? They luckily seem to have died down now..."

"Never mind that," Severus snapped. "The Dark Lord is planning on attacking a muggle school. Apparently, he needs 'deaths of the innocent' to fuel some sort of ritual he is planning."

The smile abruptly slipped from Dumbledore's face. "Do you know which school?"

"All I know is that it's located somewhere in central London – Westminster, I think. The Dark Lord is planning on sending out several high-level Death Eaters to lead the attack within the next two hours."

"I will have to alert the Ministry and the Order: we'll have to spread out to search. Will Voldemort participate?"

"I do not know," Severus admitted. "He might. It has been awhile. But now, I must go – he has me working on some sort of new potion: even I can't tell what it's for."

Dumbledore frowned. "But surely you must have some idea – "

Severus looked frustrated. "No. The ingredients, the brewing order – _everything _– makes no sense. All put together, it should only create a black slimy substance that does absolutely _nothing._ The ingredients cancel each other out – there should be no reaction. But just to be certain, do you want me to try and sabotage it?"

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "No. It is too risky, if you don't know what it's for, and if it is, as you say, harmless – "

" – I didn't say that," Severus interrupted. "It is possible that it might have some sort of effect if combined with some magic only the Dark Lord knows. I am working blind."

"If that is indeed the case, and Voldemort is the only one who knows what it's for, then ruining it on purpose won't work: he will realise, and your cover will be blown."

"Perhaps Lily could figure it out," Severus said, looking down at his potions-stained nails, seemingly fascinated. "If you let me know how to get in touch with her, we could collaborate – "

" – No!" Dumbledore's voice was sharp. "Only I know of your position in the Order, and so it will remain. And in either case, Lily Potter is in hiding with her son and husband, as per _your own wishes,_ and I'm not letting anyone know where."

"They're obviously living at Potter manor," Severus muttered. "How safe can they be?"

Something flickered in Dumbledore's eyes. "I will hear no more of this, Severus. Make the potion as requested – we can't risk your cover so soon. Now, please, leave. I must alert the Order and the Ministry of this imminent attack and I can't do that if you're present. The Ministry has you on its watch list, and like I said, I want to keep your status as a spy secret from the Order. Please try to uncover the identity of the traitor as quickly as possible - I fear of the damage he or she can cause – has already caused – and the sooner he is stopped the better."

"I will do my best," Severus said and left the room.

* * *

"I think we found it, Fab," Gideon Prewett breathed out, peeking out from beneath the tree. Some feet away, a building was on fire. Death Eaters surrounded it, laughing, as they sent streams of spells and curses through the windows. Fabian, his twin, only nodded and sent out a Patronus with a message to the rest of the Order, which were spread out all over Westminster in search of the Death Eaters.

The twins' demeanours were unusually grim as they listened to the sounds of muggles – teachers and children – screaming and crying. From the sound of it, several Death Eaters were inside as well.

"We've got to do something before it's too late," Fabian said, his fingers twitching with restlessness. "Too many have been killed all ready." Just as he said that, a child was bodily thrown out of the school, crashing through a window. Laughing, a Death Eater immediately put the crying child under the Cruciatus curse. "Merlin, I can't bear to watch any longer!" Fabian rushed out from his cover, apparating to land directly behind the Death Eater torturing the child, a curse removing both his legs.

"Fab!" Gideon hissed, quickly following his twin with another burst of apparition, arriving directly onto the stairs of the school.

The Death Eaters had been taken completely by surprise, not having expected the twins' sudden presence. It didn't take them long to recover, however, and soon, they were exchanging a rapid stream of curses, Gideon and Fabian quickly moving to cover each other's back. The Death Eaters, on the other hand, seemed to work under the age long idiom 'every man for himself,' to the twins' relief.

"Is this the best you've got?" Fabian shouted, laughing, as another Death Eater fell victim to his spell fire.

"You've got to be at the very bottom of the totem pole, because I could do this all day!" Gideon added with a grin.

* * *

Avery Sr exchanged meaningful looks with the younger Mulciber and Nott as they arrived outside through a back door and saw the battle going on at the front. From the look of things, several Death Eaters were already dead, or at least down for the count.

"What is going on?"

Avery turned around, his back automatically straightening when he caught sight of his Lord, standing behind him, his robes covered in blood from the slaughter he had participated in inside the school. Beside him, like a silent, foreboding shadow, stood Antonin Dolohov, the Dark Lord's chosen second-in-command for this particular mission. It rankled Avery that _he_ wasn't picked as second to the Dark Lord for this mission considering his long service.

True, Dolohov had also been a Death Eater for a very long time, but Antonin had joined the ranks in the years after the Dark Lord had graduated Hogwarts. He, on the other hand had been the Dark Lord's _classmate, _part of his inner circle from the very beginning! Still, Avery knew better than to express his displeasure vocally.

"My Lord!" He bowed deeply. "From what we can tell, the Order has begun to arrive – "

"There's only two of them," Dolohov said, sounding unimpressed. "Why are two wizards giving you so much trouble?"

Avery's eyes narrowed. "I am not certain. I only just arrived outside, but I was just about to...correct the problem."

"It looks like it's the Prewett twins, my Lord," Nott spoke up, also a long-time follower of the Dark Lord.

"Blood traitors," Mulciber snarled.

The Death Eaters fell silent and watched as the battle continued at the front of the school. To them, it appeared like Gideon and Fabian were both one person, moving as a single unit, predicting each other's movements, seemingly knowing what the other person was going to do before he did it, taking out opponent after opponent. Only Evan Rosier and Avery's son and namesake, whom Mulciber and Nott often teamed up with, were still standing and holding their own, though not without difficulty.

"Well, Avery?" The Dark Lord's voice was dangerously low. "Were you not on your way to _correct the problem?_ What are you still doing, standing here?"

Avery flushed – he hated it when he was reprimanded in front of his fellow Death Eaters, especially those whom he considered lower in rank than himself. "I apologise, my Lord," he said stiffly. "Mulciber, follow me!"

Avery quickly hurried to join his son and Rosier, Mulciber following. However, it soon became clear that even with four against two, the Death Eaters were unable to take down the twins – quite a feat, considering their high status in the Death Eater ranks.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Voldemort was rolling his eyes. "I am surrounded by imbeciles. Dolohov, join them and show them how it's supposed to be done. I am getting tired of watching that pathetic display of...whatever it's supposed to be. It's certainly not skill."

Dolohov smirked, going to join the battle, while Nott took his place. "If they weren't blood traitors and an embarrassment to magical society, the Prewetts would have been a great asset in our ranks," Nott said.

"Unfortunately, the same can be said for many of Dumbledore's followers," the Dark Lord spoke. "It irritates me that so many who should have been proud members of our cause have chosen to join the losing side. Can they not see they are fighting a battle they cannot win? Why struggle against an inevitable future?"

"It is indeed a mystery, my Lord," Nott said. "Still," he added as one of the twins crumbled, felled by a curse that looked like purple flame aimed by Dolohov, causing his brother to scream out in shock and anguish: three seconds later, he too went down, hit by a Cruciatus curse aimed by Mulciber. "They all go down eventually."

"Indeed."

"Shall we go, my Lord?" Nott said.

"No." At the front of the school, the five Death Eaters were now leaning over the bodies of the twins, laughing as they tortured them with various curses, after breaking their wands. "Let them have some fun. It's always...interesting...to see who comes up with the slowest and most creative way to kill a person."

"Any bets, my Lord?"

"Avery and Dolohov both favours efficiency ahead of an outdrawn execution, Mulciber depends too much on the Unforgivables to win such a contest, but Rosier can be rather twisted at times, and Avery junior usually follows his lead."

One of the twins was screaming. The other was completely silent, though it was clear he was still alive from the way he was twitching. Like the Dark Lord had foreseen, the Death Eaters' actions fit their personality in battle: Dolohov stood to one side, looking rather bored with the entire proceedings, Avery stood on the other side, patiently keeping watch, while his son and Rosier tortured the twins, Mulciber intervening every few seconds with a Cruciatus curse.

Suddenly, accompanied by the tell-tale sound of apparition, several Order members and Aurors appeared at the front of the school, looks of horror on their faces as they took in the gruesome scene of the twins being tortured. Two killing curses, quickly sent by Dolohov and Avery senior, made sure the Prewett-brothers were permanently taken out of action, and also ended their suffering.

"Looks like it's our time to join the battle now, my Lord," Nott said as the five Death Eaters at the front turned to focus on the new threat. "Unless you want to order a retreat? We have what you came for." Nott gestured towards his belt, where several bottles filled with the lifeblood from the children inside hung.

The Dark Lord considered it, until he caught sight of the blonde Slayer in the Order's mists. His red eyes gleamed. "No. I have no wish to retreat."

Nott smiled widely. "Neither do I."

* * *

Buffy quickly ducked a spell from one of the Death Eater she'd seen torturing the twins, throwing herself forward to grab him around the waist, the momentum causing them both to land on the grass. Raising her fist, she grimly pummelled him into unconsciousness after she snapped his wand, and then quickly moved on.

Her eyes widened when she saw two silhouettes moving in the shadowed areas beside the school walls, coming from the back of the school, heading towards the battle: back-up for the Death Eaters. She was just about to shout a warning to Sirius, who was closest, but when she saw who one of them were, it stuck in her throat.

Voldemort. And he was looking straight at her.

She didn't notice Voldemort's companion walk away to engage Sirius in battle. She didn't notice the spells aimed at her back, which were only deflected thanks to Remus' watchfulness. She felt hypnotized by those red eyes.

"Buffy Summers." The Dark Lord smiled as he stepped into the light, unconcerned by the battling witches and wizards around him: none of them dared to aim any spells at him, all of them giving him a wide berth.

"Mr. Dork Lord," Buffy greeted conversationally, finally regaining her senses.

The Dark Lord's eyes slowly trailed up her body, starting at her feet. "All that power, wrapped up in such a small body..." he breathed.

Buffy inwardly shuddered, but let none of the disgust she felt show on her face. "Yeah, well, surprisingly good things can come out of small packages."

Voldemort only smiled at her bravado. "I have waited a long time for this."

"Me too," Buffy said. "I've always wanted to tell you how ugly you are. And getting uglier every time I see you. Have you ever heard of plastic surgery? It might help."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed and he fingered his wand thoughtfully. "I have heard of your...sense of humour."

"Oh, I wasn't kidding," Buffy laughed, her own eyes narrowing as she fell into a fighting stance.

The Dark Lord's thin lips noticeably twitched. "No. I suppose you weren't."

"Aren't you going to curse me or something?" Buffy was getting rather nervous by Voldemort's lack of action. And where was Dumbledore? Shouldn't he have arrived by now?

"Oh, I will. But I wanted to..._chat_ first. To get a sense of...what kind of person you are."

"Why does that matter?" Buffy demanded to know.

"It matters a great deal. Your powers...intrigue me."

"Yeah? Well, have a taste!" Buffy spat, finally making her move, tired of doing nothing. But the Dark Lord was prepared and Buffy crashed into a shimmering shield conjured by Voldemort's wand, that enveloped him from all sides. "Coward!" she spat.

"Not at all," Voldemort corrected. "I am simply being practical."

"How so? Anyway, I thought it was impossible to conjure magical shields that repel physical attacks," Buffy said, punching and kicking at the shield angrily: the surface flickered slightly.

"Nothing is impossible for me, Miss Summers," the Dark Lord smiled. "And while you are tiring yourself out as you hit my shield, I am getting information. You see, this shield is not only a work of magic – it is also a work of runes and Arithmancy. And right now, on the inside of this shield, invisible to you, numbers and statistics are appearing before me, telling me exactly how much force you are using, your maximum strength, analysing your moves... It's a bit of science within the magic, really."

Buffy abruptly stopped her attacks. "And why do you want to know that?"

"Oh, I like to know what kind of threat I am facing. Tell me, is the other Slayer just as strong as you?"

"I'm not going to play twenty questions," Buffy spat. "And if you don't have the balls to face me without your shield to protect you like a scared baby, I'm going to kick someone else. Do you even have balls anymore, by the way, or have you sacrificed them in some sort of ritual, like your looks?"

The Dark Lord's eyes flashed angrily and inwardly, Buffy pumped her fist in victory. Oh yeah. It seemed as if even maniacal, creepy Dark Lords hated having their manhood insulted. "Do not test me. You are a child compared to my power."

"How old are you, by the way?" Buffy taunted. "Do you need to use adult diapers yet? I mean, I worry about your plumbing. It would be embarrassing if you had some sort of accident while amongst all these people. And, speaking of age-related deficiencies, can you even _get it up_ anymore?"

Snarling, the Dark Lord let his shield fall and sent of a curse at Buffy who nimbly ducked it, knocking out another Death Eater in the process, whom she then used as a shield against another spell sent by Voldemort. The Slayer laughed. "I'm sure Bellatrix would know! I bet you get up to all sorts of naughty stuff. Does her husband like to join in? Or does he prefer to watch?"

Only being a few feet away, Remus could hear every word coming out of his girlfriend's mouth – and he was horrified. "I'm going to have to talk to her about what's appropriate to say to a Dark Lord during battle," he muttered to himself, before he was forced to focus completely on his own duel when Dolohov moved into his sights.

Sirius, also a few feet away, also heard her, but unlike Remus, he found her taunts so hilarious that he burst out laughing, almost causing him to be hit by a curse from Nott.

"Where is your head, Black?" Moody snarled as he stunned Mulciber and tied him up with magically conjured ropes, before he moved to help Remus, who was clearly struggling against Dolohov.

"Firmly attached!" Sirius said cheerily.

Fawkes and Dumbledore appeared in a flash of flame and immediately moved to engage Voldemort, who, distracted by his arrival, forgot about Buffy until her fist hit him in his midsection, causing him to temporarily loose his breath. Snarling, he quickly re-conjured his shield. "Retreat!"

Before Dumbledore could reach him, Voldemort activated his own portkey and left. Nott, still battling Sirius, quickly followed, since he was carrying the blood they had come here for. Sirius cursed in anger when his spell impacted only with air.

Dolohov escaped next, to the frustration of Remus and Moody as they felt they had almost had him. Remus and Sirius moved to fight Avery senior, who had easily defeated the Aurors he'd been duelling. A few feet away, Rosier finished off his opponent, another Auror, and turned to face Moody.

"The great Alastor Moody." Rosier cocked his head, a slight smile playing at his lips. "I have heard so much about your skills. Are you as good as they say?"

"You tell me," Moody growled, and the duel started.

"Impressive," Rosier said, his lips twitching as Moody became visibly grimmer for every second that passed without him being able to hit Rosier. "You _are _good. Though I also believe you may have become too secure in your own abilities from your lauded reputation as one of the greatest Aurors in this generation. You are quite slow. How do you want to die, Alastor Moody? I'll let you choose."

A few feet away, Avery junior, having been the first to have been knocked out, a victim of Buffy's fists, was slowly regaining consciousness. Neither of them noticed.

"Of old age, in my bed, with a bottle of firewhiskey a part of my last meal," Moody snarked.

Rosier chuckled. "How unadventurous. I must say, I did not expect that. Don't you want to go out gloriously in battle? I would be more than happy to help you along."

"Thanks, but no thanks. If I'm going out in battle, it certainly won't be this one." A few of his co-workers moved in to help Moody, to the Auror's clear annoyance. "I don't need any help!" he shouted. "You're nothing but a boy playing at being a grownup," he told Rosier.

Rosier's eyes narrowed. "I haven't been a boy in a very long time."

The duel continued, neither Rosier nor Moody able to get the upper hand, the lethality of their spells increasing, both of them casting silently. Finally, one of Rosier's spells hit Moody in the face, and the old Auror stumbled backwards, howling in pain, blood gushing from his nose which seemed to be missing a large chunk.

Rosier started to laugh, not noticing Moody raising his wand, or the spell leaving its tip until it hit him in the chest. His laughter abruptly stopped and he sank down on his knees, coughing up a large amount of blood. Then, he collapsed to the side and became still.

"NOOOO!"

Everyone turned to jerk their heads around to stare at the Death Eater who had shouted. He had clearly stumbled to his feet sometime during the duel, holding the pieces of a broken wand in his hand as he stared at Rosier's body, seemingly in numb shock. Then, a snarl appeared on his face and he threw himself towards Moody, with seemingly no care to his own life. Several stunning spells hit him straight on before he could even get halfway. Avery senior took the moment of surprise the other Death Eater had caused to knock Remus out with a spell and made Sirius stumble with another. Before anyone could so much as blink, the man grabbed hold of the stunned Death Eater and activated his portkey, escaping.

Stunned silence fell for several seconds, before Sirius broke it.

"I knew you could take him," Sirius said with a grin, clapping Moody on the back, causing more blood to escape from the visible hole in his nose.

"Did you?" Moody slurred as Buffy moved to stop the bleeding. "Because I sure as hell didn't. It was close. The bastard was good. Very good." Moody glanced over at Rosier's body. "Such a waste of talent."

"He chose a side," Sirius said, pursing his lips. "He picked the wrong one, end of story. If you have to mourn someone, mourn Fabian and Gideon."

"I'm not mourning. I'm just..." Moody sighed. "I'm just tired of fighting. As much as I hate to admit it, I feel old. No one is invincible. The only reason I won today was because of chance. If Rosier hadn't started laughing..." Moody shook his head. "There's a lesson there for you, Black."

"Let me guess, constant vigilance?" Sirius asked, tongue-in-cheek, while reviving Remus who slowly got to his feet.

Moody glared. "Essentially, _yes. _You don't take your fights seriously enough. You're good – but there's always a bigger fish, and I would hate it if you lose your life because you're busy laughing like an idiot. _That _would truly be a waste of talent. Well, Summers," Moody said, turning to Buffy. "What's the verdict?"

Buffy sighed. "It would be easier to treat you if you stopped talking," she admonished. "But I think I can make a pretty good assessment anyway. Do you want the good or bad news first?"

"What the hell – hit me with the good news first."

"Well, the good news is we'll be able to save half your nose. The bad news is...we'll only be able to save half your nose."

Moody began to chuckle. "Just another battle scar, girlie. We'll all have them, before the end, if we don't already. Anything worthy of note to put in your Auror report, Black?"

"Well, you killed Evan Rosier, and we've captured Mulciber junior – both of them were on the Ministry's most wanted list, so I'd say that's a good thing."

"It doesn't make up for the losses, though," Buffy muttered. "Do we know how many children died?"

"At least half of them," Rufus Scrimgeour proclaimed, having overheard Buffy's question. "And the other half is in a bad shape."

Remus closed his eyes. "We were too late to do much good, if any..."

"It happens in war," Scrimgeour said matter-of-factly. Buffy stared at him, unable to understand how he could appear to be so unfeeling. "Alastor, you better get to St. Mungo's."

"Yes, sir," Moody muttered, though when Scrimgeour turned his back, he did a rather ugly grimace in his direction, something that looked twice as obscene as it would have otherwise due to his injured nose.

* * *

Molly Weasley née Prewett opened the door to the Burrow with a smile on her face that only grew when she caught sight of her visitor. "Headmaster Dumbledore! What a pleasant surprise! Please, come in! Would you like some tea? It might take awhile since I'm not very fast on my feet right now - " she patted her pregnant belly meaningfully, "but I'd be happy to put the kettle on for you."

"No, thank you, Molly, I am afraid I can only stay for a very short visit. I am needed at the Ministry."

"Oh, nonsense! Even the Chief Warlock needs a break sometimes."

"Molly," Dumbledore sighed and something must have shown on his face for the smile on Molly's lips slowly disappeared. "Perhaps you should summon Arthur." He glanced towards the doorway, where five of the current six Weasley children stood, clearly interested in what their visitor had to say. "And I don't think what I have to say are for children's ears."

"Oh, of course!" Molly said, a frown appearing on her face. "Bill, take your siblings upstairs – no protests. Tell your father to come down, and check on Ronnie to make sure he hasn't woken up from his nap."

Bill nodded and grabbed hold of Fred and George and led them away, Percy and Charlie following their older brother reluctantly.

With a heavy heart, Dumbledore sank down on the Weasley's threadbare sofa. A minute or so went by, with Molly wringing her hands with worry, as they waited for her husband to come down. Finally, they heard footsteps and Arthur stepped into the room.

"Headmaster Dumbledore! What brings you by? Has Molly offered refreshment?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid I can't stay. Please, sit, Arthur. I'm afraid I don't have happy news."

Molly gripped hold of Arthur's hand. "I-is it Gideon and Fabian? I-I know they're fighting in the war sometimes. Are they hurt?"

Dumbledore sighed. "There is no easy way to put this, Molly, so I will just say it. Gideon and Fabian are dead."

Molly let out a choked sound of distress and Arthur's face whitened as she began to cry. "I knew it!" Molly gasped out. "When you said you didn't have happy news..." It looked like she was on the verge of fainting.

"Molly, breathe!" Arthur said, patting her back gently. "How did it happen?" He then asked Dumbledore hoarsely.

"There was an attack on a muggle school by Voldemort's followers. Both of your brothers fought very bravely, Molly." Molly let out another choked sob. "From what we can tell, they held their own against overwhelming odds for quite a long time, but...by the time we got there, it was too late."

Molly's sobs increased.

"Thank you for letting us know so quickly," Arthur said tiredly.

Dumbledore only nodded. "I am sure the Ministry will send someone to tell you as well, but I thought you deserved to hear it from me first. If you have any questions – "

" – We'll be sure to come to you."

"Did they pay?"

Dumbledore and Arthur looked over at Molly, startled. The woman's face was now dry from tears, though her eyes were visibly red-rimmed. "I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore frowned.

"The bastards who killed my brothers. _Did. They. Pay?"_

Dumbledore hesitated, thinking of the five Death Eaters whom, according to the reports of the Order members who had arrived first, had been standing around the twins' bodies: Evan Rosier, Mulciber Jr, Antonin Dolohov, Avery senior and his son. While Rosier was dead and Mulciber was captured, the other three had gotten away. Still, he couldn't tell Molly that - it would only upset her further. "Yes," he answered instead. "Yes, they did."

"Good," Molly said, her voice hard and her eyes blazing. And then, she let out a small, strangled squeak, her entire face paling.

"Molly? Molly!" Arthur exclaimed, grasping her shoulders in worry. "What is it? Did something happen?"

"I-I apologise, Headmaster," Molly said faintly. "This really isn't very proper, but...I-I think my waters just broke."

* * *

Three hours later, at 7 PM, Ginevra Molly Weasley entered the world, the first female born in the Weasley line for generations.

* * *

**********__****Published: **_12__/09 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- In 1981, between April-July, England actually did suffer from riots in several major cities (London, Birmingham, Leeds, Liverpool…), due to racial tension and inner-city deprivation. I wanted to take the chance to add a little bit of actual history into all the fiction!

- Harry's birthday is based on Lily's letter and photo to Sirius, from Lily's letter in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, in which she mentions Harry's toy broomstick and how he "nearly killed the cat" with it, as well as Bathilda coming over for tea as their only visitor. The only part that doesn't fit with the letter's contents is Peter's mentioned visit, since in Roads Travelled, the Fidelius is not (yet) in place and he does not yet know that Lily & James have moved to Godric's Hollow.

- That it took six months to catch Igor Karkaroff is canon, and mentioned during his trial in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, where we also learn that Karkaroff does sell out his fellow Death Eaters during his trial.

- The spell Dolohov uses that looks like purple flame is the same he uses on Hermione in the Department of Mysteries in Order of the Phoenix. "_A sudden slashing movement with his wand from which flew a streak of what looked like purple flame. It passed right across Hermione's chest; she gave a tiny "oh!" as though of surprise and then crumpled."_

- Avery Sr, Dolohov and Nott's rankings within the DEs are based on canon information: in Slughorn's fake pensieve memoery in Harry Potter and Half-Blood Prince chapter 17 we learn that someone called Avery is part of Voldemort's gang, then Tom Riddle. Dolohov and Nott are names mentioned in chapter 20, where they are part of the group waiting for Voldemort in Hogsmeade when he goes to Hogwarts to apply for the DADA post.

- In canon, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Dolohov is the Death Eater responsible for Remus' death, which is why he does not have the easiest time fighting against him here, as a way to show that Dolohov is more skilled.

- Fabian and Gideon's deaths: that it took five Death Eaters to take them down, including Antonin Dolohov, is canon, as is Rosier's death and him taking a chunk out of Mad-Eyes nose in the process. However, in canon, these events took place in 1980, not 1981. A Mulciber was also captured by the Ministry, though it is never made clear in canon if it's Jr or Sr. I went with Jr.

- "I would hate it if you lose your life because you're busy laughing like an idiot" – essentially what happens to Sirius in canon, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

- Ginny's canon birthday is 11 August.


	23. Joshua

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**15 August**

Buffy was lying on her back in front of hers and Remus' fireplace, with Moony's heavy weight resting over her chest. The werewolf's head rested on top of her ribcage, his eyes closed. The Slayer was staring up at the roof while her hand stroked the lycan's back absently. Lately, she'd found she did her best thinking during the full moon, when there was just her and Moony, with nothing to distract her.

"I've been thinking, Moony," Buffy said out loud. "About Voldemort." Moony snorted contemptuously and Buffy grinned. "I'm glad you don't think much of him. I don't either." She sighed. "But he worries me."

Moony's ears perked up in attention and his eyes opened.

"I faced him, you know," she said. "Four days ago. I don't know what I expected really, but it wasn't an _interrogation."_ She bit her lip and Moony whined, nudging her belly with his nose. Buffy gave his back a comforting pat. "He wanted to know things about me, Moony. He even used some sort of shield spell that let him know how strong I was. Why would he do that? Does he just want to know what kind of threat I pose, or is it more than that?

"And it's not the first thing that's tipped me off that something's not right. There have been other instances too," Buffy continued, unconcerned that Moony, unlike Remus, couldn't really answer her, let alone hold an actual conversation with her. The werewolf made a great wall to bounce ideas at, even though – or maybe because – he couldn't say anything back. Sometimes, she just needed to vent.

"He attacked a Wizarding Library, seemingly for no other reason than to get information on the Slayer. And when Voldemort had his Death Eaters and those Quinniepeds attack Diagon Alley, I heard Bellatrix scream he wanted me alive._ Why_ does he need me alive? What does he want me for? Is it even me specifically, or would any Slayer do?" She sighed. "If that's the case, it might have been better for Joshua if he _had _stayed out of this war. With a spy in the Order, I'm sure the Dork Lord knows about him by now."

Moony let out a slight huff. Buffy nodded. "You're right. Of course he knows. Which means both of us might be in danger. Brilliant." She sighed. "Like I don't have enough to worry about already."

* * *

**21 August**

Edgar opened the door to his house with a smile. "Mother, father. Welcome." He happily accepted a kiss on the cheek from his mother, and a clap on the back from his father. Ever since the war began, he saw his parents less often than he would like.

"Edgar, darling!" Mrs. Bones beamed at her son. "I am so happy to see you. How are Heidi and the girls?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Edgar said, leading his parents into the living room, where his wife, Heidi, sat with their youngest daughter, Holly, on her lap. Their other daughter, four year old Gemma, had been drawing in a picture book, but now jumped up to greet her grandparents.

"Granny! Grandpa!"

"Oh, hello there!" Mr. Bones said lifting up Gemma. "Oof! You're getting bigger every time I see you!"

Gemma beamed proudly. "I've grown almost two whole inches, grandpa!"

"Well, that is quite an accomplishment! And where is your little sister?"

Gemma frowned as she pointed at Holly. "Over there. But she's so _boring," _she confided, lowering her voice to a mere whisper.

Mrs. Bones chuckled. "Well, you have to be patient! She is only a little more than a year old. Wait another year, and then you'll see that having a sibling can be great fun. Don't you agree, Edgar?"

Edgar smiled, remembering the more playful moments between himself and his two siblings when they had been children: Amelia, who was the oldest and never denied a chance to point that out, and Nicholas, doubtlessly the most spoiled as a result of being the youngest. "Oh, yes."

"And speaking of sisters, where is yours?" Mrs. Bones asked her son.

"I'm afraid Amelia couldn't make it," Edgar said. "She's stuck at the Ministry, working overtime."

"Well, war creates a lot of paperwork," Mr. Bones joked. "And in any case, from what I've heard from my contacts at the Ministry, Amelia works the hardest of everyone in her department. She deserves a promotion."

"Oh, even though she is his appointed second-in-command, Crouch is making sure to keep her from gaining too much influence, I'm sure. He knows a promotion for her would likely mean a demotion for him," Edgar said.

"A demotion for Crouch?" Mrs. Bones said, astonished. "It will never happen as long as the war goes on, if ever: he's far too popular. Wasn't he in the running for Minister?"

"He was," Edgar nodded.

"I still think you should have gotten it," his wife said decisively while bouncing her youngest daughter on her lap.

Edgar grinned. "Well, thank you, darling. But the vote landed on Bagnold, and I must say, she's not doing such a bad job."

"Well, if she has to work, I suppose Amelia has an excuse for not being here, but what about your brother?" Mrs. Bones huffed. "I thought this was supposed to be a family dinner."

"They flooed that they will be late: apparently Susan was fussing," Heidi said. Transportation to the Bones' family home via floo had been closed off for security reasons, though the inhabitants were still able to use it for floo-calls.

"But they are coming?" Mr. Bones asked and Heidi nodded. "Good. It's been too long since we were all together. And Nicholas doesn't have work as an excuse!"

* * *

An hour late, Nicholas Bones and his wife Ophelia arrived via Apparation to the street where the Bones family home was located, Susan having finally stopped fussing and was now sleeping happily in her mother's arms. They both began to walk the short distance to the house, confident that the wards would accept them. However, when Nicholas passed the spot where the protections around the house began, something that should have alerted him by a slight tingling in his spine, he felt nothing, and he abruptly froze.

"Ophelia, stop!" He hissed, grabbing his wife's arm to keep her from walking on, not having noticed anything.

"What's wrong?" Ophelia frowned.

"The wards are down," Nicholas said grimly.

His wife frowned. "Are you certain you're not just being paranoid, dear? Perhaps you were mistaken."

"I might be," Nicholas admitted. "But it's best to make sure. Back up."

He and Ophelia quickly backed away, before Nicholas proceeded to walk forward once again, crossing over the spot where the wards should have begun several times just to make sure he wasn't making a big deal out of nothing. "I'm not mistaken," he said grimly, pulling out his wand. "They're definitely down."

Ophelia gulped, clutching Susan closer. "Perhaps we're in the wrong spot... The wards might start further ahead?"

"We're not in the wrong spot," Nicholas said shortly. "Alert the Ministry – try to reach my sister directly, if possible: she'll make sure to send help without delay."

"What are you going to do?" Ophelia asked in a trembling voice. "Nicholas, please don't leave me! You can't go in there!"

"I have to! My brother's in there! My parents! And, Merlin, think of the_ children!" _

Suddenly, two men excited the house and both Nicholas quickly grabbed his wife's hand and hunched down behind a couple of dustbins. One of the figures raised his wand and, less than a second later, the Dark Mark appeared in the air, the skull and snake a foreboding omen above the house. Ophelia whimpered.

"That was the Lestrange brothers," Nicholas breathed out in horror as the two men apparated away. He stood up.

"Nicholas, stop!" Ophelia grabbed his arm desperately. "There's nothing you can do! It's too late! Just wait for the Ministry to get here, please!"

Nicholas shook her off. "I-I have to see for myself," he said hoarsely, and before Ophelia could stop him again, he sprinted towards the house.

* * *

Inside the house, Travers kicked aside the dead body of Gemma Bones with a grin. "I can't believe Rodolphus and Rabastan decided to leave just as it's getting good."

Dolohov rolled his eyes. "We should just finish up," he said. "This is a waste of time, not to mention beneath me."

"You're such a spoilsport!" Travers said, kneeling down by Heidi Bones, stroking her face almost gently. The woman let out a tearful whimper, too injured to fight back anymore. Edgar, her husband, was lying a few feet away, his eyes open in death, his wand still in his hand. "You can't tell me _this,"_ he tore open her dress and Heidi sobbed, "doesn't turn you on?"

"It doesn't," Dolohov said shortly.

"Then there's something wrong with you," Travers said with a leer. "Head back then, if you're so bored."

"I would, except I promised the Dark Lord I wouldn't leave you by yourself. Apparently, he doesn't trust you not to mess up somehow - again."

Travers flushed at the deliberate reminder of the fiasco the last mission he had participated in had been: the murder of the McKinnon's. He had hoped this mission would make up for that particular disaster, and he thought he had performed very well! It wasn't like it mattered that he had shot the killing curse at Edgar Bones'_ back_ while the man had been duelling the Lestranges: he had still killed him! On top of that, he had been the one to kill the man's children after he made sure his wife was in no state to fight back, while Dolohov amused himself with the elder Bones couple. He didn't deserve to be scorned! He glared at Dolohov angrily, forgetting about Heidi for a moment. "That wasn't my fault! It wasn't even my mission!"

Dolohov rolled his eyes again, a sneer appearing on his face as he noticed Heidi, who had her arm outstretched, her fingers almost reaching the wand still lying in one of her husband's cooling hands. "Your_ prey _is trying to get away."

With a jerk of his head, Travers turned his attention back to Heidi, grabbing her arm and twisting it until he heard a sharp crack. Heidi screamed. "None of that now. We're going to have so much fun you and I."

"Please, just kill me," Heidi begged, her eyes filled with tears.

"I will. After I'm done with you." Travers smirked as he pulled his robes aside, his hands disappearing up Heidi's skirt. Heidi let out a loud sob and tried again to get away, to no avail.

Neither he nor Dolohov noticed Nicholas who was standing in the entrance to the room, his eyes wide with horror as he took in the dead bodies of his family. He hadn't expected any Death Eaters to still be here, but as he saw what Travers was doing to Heidi, his eyes hardened. He hadn't been able to save his parents, his brother or his children, but at least he could save his brother's wife. Filled with fury and thoughts of revenge, he raised his wand, aiming it squarely at Travers. _"Stupefy!"_

The stunning spell hit the Death Eater straight on, and he slumped forwards, landing on top of Heidi, who immediately began to push Travers off of her with the arm that wasn't broken, crying loudly.

Dolohov spun around in surprise, a shielding spell reflexively leaving his wand in defence of this unknown threat, and Nicholas' second stunning spell crashed harmlessly into it. His lips twitched. "Ah. You're the second Bones brother. My Lord's sources at the Ministry told us your sister was there working, but my companions and I were wondering where you were. Are you as good of a fighter as your brother was?"

In answer, Nicholas sent off another spell, which Dolohov easily deflect with a flick of his wand. "I'll take that as a no. Where did you learn that? Fourth year at Hogwarts?"

After sending off a barrage of curses at Nicholas, Dolohov quickly hit Travers with a silent _'Rennervate,'_ before he turned to back to face the younger Bones' brother again. "You know," he said musingly, "I don't think you're even interested in winning. If you were, you should have hit Travers with something more encumbering than a _stunning spell."_

Travers angrily stood, finishing Heidi off with a killing curse in the process, a furious expression on his face.

"NO!" Nicholas gasped when he saw her die and was promptly disarmed.

"It's over," Dolohov said, pointing his wand at Nicholas' throat.

Suddenly, the sound of apparition filled the room and Dolohov spun around in surprise, only to be knocked out by several spells at once, sent by the Aurors in the front line. Less than a second later, Travers collapsed to the floor, hit with yet another stunning spell.

Among the ranks stood Amelia Bones, staring at the bodies decorating the room, the realisation that they had been too late – _far _too late – to do anything slowly began to dawn on her. Slowly, she sank to her knees, taking in the sight of Heidi, her dress ripped, and Edgar, dead less than two feet away from her. Their parents were lying in a heap on the other side of the room, also dead, their bodies covered in blood. The body of little Gemma was lying against a wall, and her younger sister was slumped over in her baby chair, also dead, but peaceful looking. Her life had barely had a chance to begin. Nicholas walked forwards, grasping her hand.

"Oh," was all she said._ "Oh."_

And then, the normally stoic and resolute witch began to cry.

* * *

Voldemort waited in his throne room for his followers to return from the attack on the Bones family. Bellatrix sat on the floor beside his throne, her head resting against his robe clad legs, humming slightly to herself. "Bella, stop that infernal noise."

Bellatrix immediately stopped humming. "But I am boooored," she said, almost whining, a noticeable pout on her face. "What is taking them so long?"

"Patience, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said. "You, of all people, would benefit from learning some_ patience."_

Bellatrix frowned. "But – "

"Stop pouting. If you are bored, you may go play with the prisoners."

Bellatrix sighed, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. "I don't want to leave until 'Dolphie comes back."

"Do you not trust your husband's abilities?" The Dark Lord sounded amused.

Bellatrix huffed. "Of course I do. But Travers is an idiot."

Voldemort chuckled. "His performance has been...unreliable, as of late," he agreed. "But he is one of my best Death Eaters. And I trust Antonin to keep him in line."

Silence fell, and after awhile, Bellatrix began humming again. This time, the Dark Lord did not stop her. Instead, he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, occupying his mind with thoughts of his two spies: Peter Pettigrew and Severus Snape. Snape would soon be at Hogwarts as a professor, in a perfect position to spy on Dumbledore. And with Severus as Head of Slytherin, recruiting new followers would be easy, if the man did his job right. And as for Pettigrew... Voldemort had to admit he had begun to despair – but the Order member had proven himself useful at last, to the Dark Lord's pleasant surprise.

Not only had he exposed Meadowes as a traitor, but it was also his information that had made it possible for his followers to find Benjy Fenwick, the McKinnon's, and now, the Bones. Hopefully, Pettigrew's information would continue to be sound, and eventually lead him to both the Potters and the Longbottoms. Unlike Bellatrix, he could be patient.

The doors to the throne-room opened and the Lestrange brothers stepped inside, bowing before him as Voldemort opened his eyes.

"'Dolphie!" Bellatrix jumped up from the floor and began, predictably, to fuss over her husband, checking him for injuries. There were a few, the Dark Lord noted, but nothing particularly serious.

"Rabastan, Rodolphus," he greeted. "I trust the mission was a success?"

"Yes, my Lord," Rabastan said.

"We took them by surprise – it was easier than we thought it would," Rodolphus agreed. For a moment, it looked like he was about to say something else, but didn't.

The Dark Lord frowned. "I sense a 'but' in there, somewhere."

Rodolphus nodded sharply. "But," he added, "the youngest Bones brother and his family was not present."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed. "I see. No matter. Edgar Bones was the greatest threat. Just as we have decided to take care of Amelia Bones on a separate occasion, Nicholas Bones can also wait. Where are Travers and Dolohov?"

The Lestrange brothers exchanged looks. "Travers decided to stay behind to...play with the wife," Rabastan reported after a short pause. "Dolohov stayed to watch him."

"Good," Voldemort said, remembering the promise he had extracted from Antonin. "As it should be. The Dark Mark was sent up?"

"Of course."

"Excellent."

Silence fell, and the Lestrange brothers began to fidget, Rodolphus looking particularly uncomfortable – and who could blame him, with the attention Bellatrix was paying him? To Voldemort, it looked a lot like the witch was prepared to jump her husband, right there in the throne room, in front of her brother-in-law and master.

"Bella, please, show some restraint," Voldemort finally said and Bella released her husband reluctantly, though Rodolphus relief and gratitude was obvious. Rabastan only looked amused. "Tell me how Avery has been dealing with Rosier's death. I know they were..._close._" A frown appeared on his face as he remembered their attack on the muggle school.

While it could be considered a success – he had gotten what he came for, after all - Evan had been killed and Mulciber captured: both of them were a great loss to his cause. As it was, the younger Avery had almost been lost as well, and would have been, if his father hadn't portkeyed them both out at the last second.

"Not well, my Lord," Rabastan answered after several seconds' hesitation. "He is...functioning. Barely."

"His father is getting rather frustrated with him," Rodolphus added. "He's been trying to make him snap out of it."

Voldemort pursed his lips. He had known Rosier and Avery had been in a..._relationship,_ of sorts, but he had thought it was more a way of releasing tension, than actual feelings. And yet, it appeared it had been wrong. "I may have underestimated Avery and Rosier's closeness if that's the sort of reaction he got from his death."

The Dark Lord glanced at Bellatrix thoughtfully, wondering at her relationship with her husband. From what he knew, it had been arranged. And yet, from the way Bellatrix fawned over him, there must be..._feelings_ there and he knew Rodolphus at least cared about her. And then there was Snape's constant obsession with Potter's wife, and later his feelings for Meadowes. His eyes flashed. _Love._ What a useless concept. Why anyone would consider it a strength rather than a weakness, he did not know. "And what about Rosier's father?"

"The death of Evan does not seem to have affected him, my Lord," Rabastan said.

Voldemort nodded. "Good. Knowing him as well as I do, I did not expect it would, but one can never be sure. Keep me updated on Avery's condition," he added. "I am willing to wait for him to snap to his senses...for now, at least."

"Yes, my L – " Rabastan began, only to be interrupted when the doors to the throne room slammed open once again, and Rookwood burst inside, out of breath.

"What is the meaning of this, Augustus?" The Dark Lord sneered.

"I-I apologise, my Lord," Rookwood panted out, his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. "But I have news."

"They better be important, for you to interrupt like this," Voldemort said.

"They are." The Ministry spy paused.

"Well? Out with it, then."

"Both Dolohov and Travers have been arrested, my Lord," Rookwood blurted out quickly, looking nervous.

The Lestrange brothers' eyes widened and Voldemort froze._ "What?"_ The Dark Lord's voice was so low it was barely discernible.

Rookwood nodded. "Yes, my Lord. From what I just heard at the Ministry, it seems that the younger Bones brother, Nicholas Bones, and his wife, arrived at the house and found the wards down. The wife alerted the Ministry while Bones entered the house. My sources tell me Travers had...eh...his pants down and was stunned immediately. Heidi Bones was killed, but before Dolohov could kill Bones, the Aurors arrived and grabbed them both."

Voldemort's fists clenched in fury. The Lestrange brothers glanced at each other worriedly, wondering if they would be blamed for this mishap, for not having stayed with the other two. "Thank you, Rookwood. You may leave."

The Unspeakable nodded and quickly left, clearly relieved at being dismissed. Voldemort was seething. So Travers had gotten himself arrested...and he had dragged _Dolohov_ down with him. Why, oh why, did he have to suffer some sort of failure for every success? It wasn't_ fair!_ "Leave me," he told the Lestranges who bowed and exited the room in silence.

Once they were gone, the Dark Lord abruptly stood up and headed to his secret working chamber. There stood the bottles with blood he had taken from the children at the muggle school. Beside it in a large cauldron stood the potion he had had Snape working on stood, finished by him yesterday and now cooling. The sight was calming, reminding him that there were positive things to be found. Everything was ready. It would take little time to prepare. All that was missing now...was a Slayer.

* * *

**1 September **

_DUMBLEDORE VS YOU-KNOW-WHO  
– NOT HAPPENING IF DUMBLEDORE GETS TO DECIDE_

_Albus Dumbledore can be counted among the most famous wizards of our age, not in the least for his work with famous alchemist Nicolas Flamel, his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and, perhaps most significant at this time, his defeat of the dark Wizard Grindelwald in 1945._

_Why then, you might ask, has he allowed You-Know-Who to continue to wreak havoc on our country for so long? Perhaps his defeat of Grindelwald was only a fluke? Highly unlikely, considering Albus Dumbledore has been called the most powerful wizard of our time on more than one occasion. So why does he sit idle, when prominent wizarding families such as the McKinnon's and the Bones have already been destroyed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?_

_Already 100 years old, one is allowed to wonder if Dumbledore is becoming senile – but no: our sources all report that the Headmaster of Hogwarts is still spry, his mind as sharp as ever. So why does he constantly arrive too late to make any real difference during battles where You-Know-Who and his followers cause both carnage and destruction? _

_All signs point to Albus Dumbledore being afraid, preferring to leave what should be his responsibility up to people from the younger - and apparently more fearless – generation. People such as the Longbottoms and the Potters, two couples that have both done what it seems Dumbledore has failed to do: face He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And yet, fear is an unlikely reason behind Dumbledore's lack of action. __We are, after all, talking about Albus Dumbledore. _

_With his power and experience, Albus Dumbledore should be the one to bring the war to an end. However, it seems he is content to sit back and watch, while You-Know-Who and his followers continue to ravage our world, meeting no real resistance. One can't help but wonder whether he wants You-Know-Who to succeed, but for what reason? __How much longer will this war be allowed to continue?_

_We at the _Daily Prophet_ suppose that is up to Albus Dumbledore and advice our readers to close your doors, ward your homes, and hope you won't attract You-Know-Who's attention. When public places such as Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade and even St. Mungo's and the Ministry itself have already fallen under attack from his forces, our own houses may be our only sanctuary - and even that is uncertain. The recent attacks on the Bones and McKinnon families have proven that no matter how strong your wards are, You-Know-Who can still find a way in. Pray you do not attract his ire._

_But what about Hogwarts? It has long been reputed to be the most secure place in Britain, but will that be enough to keep You-Know-Who away? One can only hope it is safe enough, since that is where our children will be for the coming months, their lives entrusted to the care of – you guessed it – Albus Dumbledore. Let us all hope that his wilful ignorance does not extend to his own school - for our children's sake. _

* * *

Severus' dark eyes stared out over the Great Hall, a sneer on his face as he watched the new first years walk up to the hat to be sorted, one by one. Children. He didn't want to be a professor, and yet, here he was. He could hear some of the students whisper as they looked up at him, some of them probably recognising him from when he was a student here, even: not enough time had passed since his graduation. And now he would be the professor, and even the Head of House, for some of them. He inwardly grimaced, though he made sure his face was twisted into a scowl – he couldn't let any of the brats sense his unease.

The sorting continued, and Severus tried to pay some attention to the students sorted into his house, but the simple truth was, he didn't much care. From the look of them, they were all pathetic. None of them looked like true Slytherins.

For that matter, the newly appointed Potions professor thought most of the students, new and old alike, looked scared. The Great Hall was filled with an anxious atmosphere, in contrast of the cheery and optimistic mood that had constantly seemed to fill the castle during his time at the school, the Headmaster's mere presence something that made all students feel safe within the castle walls. Now, however, Severus saw that several students were glaring up at the Headmaster with accusing, even angry, looks.

Severus pursed his lips. The reason was obvious, of course. That morning, the _Daily Prophet_ had published an article about the Headmaster that was less than flattering, essentially blaming him for the continuing war. And since most wizards and witches were sheep, they, of course, ate it up.

In Severus opinion, the article had had a couple of good points, albeit embellished, and would only serve to frighten the public even more, and the majority was of course pure speculation, but with just enough truth to make people take it seriously. Most of the Wizarding World wouldn't know good reporting even if it bit them in the arse.

Glancing towards the Headmaster, he saw the wizard looked exhausted. Severus allowed a small smirk appear on his face. He didn't envy Dumbledore the predicament he now was in – but it was a little bit amusing to see someone whom he had regarded as an enemy for so long get taken down a peg, even though they were now 'on the same side' so to speak. Besides, it wasn't like the man couldn't take the heat. He was, after all, Albus bloody Dumbledore.

* * *

**7 September**

"I have new information on the two Slayers," were the first words out of Voldemort's mouth as he looked out over the vampires on his side. Also present were Mulciber senior, Rosier senior and Jugson, his eye still bandaged from the injury he had sustained during the attack on the McKinnon's. All the vampires straightened up, their interest peaked.

"My source in the Order tells me the two usually patrol every night, apparating from city to city, patrolling the same old haunts in each town: seedy neighbourhoods, cemeteries, clubbing areas... There is, however, no way for us to predict exactly _when_ they will be at a certain city," the Dark Lord admitted. "But I want you to be lying in wait for them nonetheless." His lips twisted. "We can be patient."

The vampires laughed.

"Pick a town, pick a cemetery – a large city and a large cemetery, since they're likely to focus on those sooner rather than later – and wait for them to appear," Voldemort ordered them. "When they do, I want you to snag the male Slayer – that will be your job, Jugson – and kill the female. It is likely they will be accompanied by Remus Lupin – a werewolf, and the male Slayer has a Watcher." He gave the vampires a long look. "I expect you will keep Summers and the Watcher distracted long enough for Jugson to do his job. Rosier, Mulciber, I want you two to focus on the werewolf – kill him, if you can."

"Of course, my Lord," Mulciber said.

"When Jugson has the male Slayer, all of you are allowed to apparate back here."

"My Lord," Jugson said, his voice sounding hesitant. "I don't mean to doubt your plan, but how will you expect me to _grab_ the Slayer? It's unlikely he will cooperate and he will probably see me approaching. Not to mention his physical prowess - "

" - You are a wizard, are you not?" Voldemort sounded annoyed. "Disillusion yourself, and then stun him. And if, for some reason, you _fail_ to stun him, use this." He held up a syringe filled with liquid. "Plunge the contents into his throat – it will take away his strength."

"My Lord," Rosier said, sounding disgusted. "Is that not a...muggle contraption?"

"It is," the Dark Lord acknowledged. "But it is also far more effective than bringing a bottle with the potion and try to get the Slayer to swallow it."

"Yes, my Lord," Rosier muttered.

"What about us?" One of the male vampires hissed. "Once your followers have the brat, we'll be at the mercy of the other Slayer. She'll kiss us."

"When that happens, I expect the werewolf will be dead, taken care of by Mulciber and Rosier. The Watcher should also be dead, since he poses no problem for you, and if Summers is still alive, with your numbers, she shouldn't be a threat. Of course, I will allow you to...feed from both the Watcher and the female Slayer. The werewolf too, if you so choose. I've heard a Slayer's blood is extremely potent for a vampire, though I expect the werewolf's blood will be less than appetizing."

Voldemort did not add that he thought most, if not all, of them would already have been staked at that point, and the vampires were clearly too stupid to figure it out themselves. And, indeed, the entire group looked to be in awe, clearly excited at the thought of getting to drink the blood of a Slayer. "Yes, Master," they chorused.

* * *

**8 September**

"Do you think we should split up, cover more ground?" Joshua sighed to Buffy while he twirled a stake between his fingers. "If we separate, we could get home faster. This cemetery is deader than dead."

"Come to think of it, so have all the others been. This entire city has been calm. A little _too_ calm." Buffy frowned. "Don't you think that's weird?"

The two Slayers, faithfully followed by Remus and Phillip, were on their normal patrolling route. Remus and Buffy would take them side-along to various cities around the country, choosing the towns at random. Then they'd make a sweep over the clubbing areas, the darker neighbourhoods and a few of the cemeteries, before they apparated back.

The male Slayer gave her an amused look. "Weirder than normal, you mean? You're a witch and we're both Slayers, fighting what most people believe to be fiction – how much weirder can it get? But I understand what you mean. Do you think they're planning something big somewhere?"

Buffy nodded. "Vampires do gang up sometimes for a bigger cause, so they might be. I mean, even if there aren't any new risers, there's usually _some _vamps hanging around looking for a snack. But there haven't been any of them anywhere, not even where they usually hang."

Joshua sniggered. "Maybe they've wised up and decided on a change of diet would be in the best interest of their health."

"Or maybe they've joined forces, like you guessed, and decided to ambush you," Remus interrupted, walking up to the two Slayers, a grim look on his face. Only then did Joshua and Buffy notice all the vampires who had slowly been creeping up on them, surrounding them in a circle.

"Crap," Buffy said, raising her sword in a defensive position.

"How eloquently put," Phillip said dryly, eyeing the vampires appearing out of the shadows critically. There was over a dozen.

Then Buffy saw that they were accompanied by two Death Eaters. "Double crap," she muttered. "I knew we should have had sex before we left, Re. If I'm going to die, I want to die satisfied."

Remus looked mortified.

"Too much information, Buffy," Joshua muttered, his entire body tense and ready to spring into action.

Buffy smirked. "Sorry, Josh. I forgot about your virgin ears for a moment."

"I'm not a virgin!" Joshua protested, blushing.

"Sure, you aren't," Buffy and Phillip chorused sarcastically, just as the three vampires who were closest said: "Yes, you are," and licked themselves around the lips.

Joshua's shoulders slumped and his blush increased. "They can smell it, right?"

"Yep," Buffy smirked, patting his back sympathetically, and then raised her wand.

Joshua wrinkled his nose. "I hate vampires," he muttered, launching himself into action, just as Buffy fired of a spell, sending arrow after arrow out of the tip of her wand, all of them perfectly aimed at a vampire's heart.

"I can take care of your virgin problem," one of the female vampires leered at the youngest Slayer, her yellow eyes shining.

Joshua jerked back in disgust. "I'd rather fuck a werewolf!" he exclaimed, staking the vampire. "No offense," he told Remus who was duelling the two Death Eaters.

"None taken." Remus frowned. "I think?"

"How are you doing, Phillip?" Buffy asked as she cut the head of one vampire and ducked the swing of another, and then turned to stake a third through the heart with her wand.

"Not too shabbily, if I may say so myself," the Watcher said, having just finished staking a vampire through the back.

The vampires were thinning out, easily destroyed by the combined efforts of Buffy, Joshua and Phillip. Remus, however, was clearly beginning to struggle against the two Death Eaters, both of them part of Voldemort's inner circle and easily recognised from the Ministry's most wanted posters: Rosier senior and Mulciber senior.

"I'm going to help Remus," Buffy called out as she beheaded yet another vampire. "I think you and Joshua can handle the rest."

Phillip nodded. There were only five vampires left now. Two of them ganged up on him, with the other three surrounded Joshua.

"You know, Buffy's been telling me how almost all vampires are fashion retarded," Joshua said conversationally, easily fighting the trio of vampires at once, but focusing his wisecracks on one of them. "And if what you're wearing is any indication, boy, was she right! Where did you find that outfit? _Trashcans "R" Us?_"

Slamming his stake home, he turned his attention to the remaining two vampires. Where Buffy was all instinct and grace, Joshua was all about rippling technique, with him often predicting his opponents' moves before they made them. This, coupled with the strength in his hits and blows, made him a very dangerous opponent, but it could also be a weakness: if a vampire feinted, Joshua often found himself in trouble.

These two vampires, however, weren't very clever, or experienced enough to come to that conclusion. Carelessly, they threw themselves towards him. In response Joshua easily avoided them by somersaulting over their heads. Once he landed, he kicked one of them at the back of his knees, causing the vampire to fall. While the first vampire was trying to get up, he staked the second in the chest, and, before the vampire even started to turn to dust, he staked the first as well.

Joshua smiled. That had been easy. The male Slayer moved to help Phillip with the remaining two vampires but was suddenly forced to duck as a spell – seemingly shot out of nowhere – was aimed at him. Several more spells were fired, and, narrowing his eyes, Joshua approached the place he thought they had come from.

Finally, he felt his body crash into something and he immediately raised a fist to punch his invisible opponent – but before he could, he felt a syringe get slammed into his neck. To his horror Joshua felt most of his strength leave him when the plunger was slammed down, introducing unfamiliar liquid to his veins, and the attacker – still invisible – grabbed him around the waist from behind.

Despite his sudden lack of strength, the Slayer immediately began to struggle against his invisible captor, kicking out with his legs and elbowing the person – at least he thought it was a person – in the stomach and in the head. The grip around his waist weakened, but not enough for Joshua the weakened Joshua to get away, not even when he slammed his head backwards – he did hear the satisfying crunching sound of a nose breaking, and his captor – now confirmed to be a male – howling in pain.

"Phillip!" Joshua screamed at his Watcher. But Phillip was in no state to help him.

The Watcher had managed to stake one of the vampires, but the second had taken advantage of the distraction Joshua's predicament had caused, and slammed Phillip into a nearby headstone, knocking him unconscious. "Phillip!" Joshua began to struggle even more furiously when he realised his Watcher was injured. "Buffy!"

"Let's go!" The invisible man shouted. "Rosier! Mulciber!"

One of the Death Eaters apparated out of the way of Buffy's stunning spell, just as the second was disarmed, his wand sent flying by Remus' well-placed _Expelliarmus._

Buffy was running towards Joshua while using the arrow-firing spell to kill the vampire who had knocked Phillip unconscious and begun to feed from the Watcher's neck.

But she was too late.

The Death Eater Buffy had failed to stun - and his invisible companion – were already apparating, and as Buffy launched herself towards the spot, they had already disappeared with Joshua, her hands grasping only air. Cursing loudly, she headed over to Remus and the Death Eater he had managed to disarm, snapping the man's wand in the process as she walked.

A few feet away, Phillip was coming to, looking groggy as he stood, clutching the bleeding bitemark at his neck. "What happened?" He slurred as he stumbled over to them. "Where is Joshua?"

"That's what I'm planning to find out," Buffy said grimly. Angrily, she grabbed the Death Eater - Mulciber - by the lapels of his robes, shaking him. "Where is Joshua now? What does Voldemort want with him? Why was he unable to get free?" Just the thought of Joshua being in Voldemort's hands filled her with a deep, cold dread. The two Slayers had grown irrevocably closer as a result of them spending so much time together, bonding over Slaying, puns, destiny... Buffy thought of Joshua like a little brother, even though she was also aware Joshua still had a bit of a crush on her.

"Where is he?" Phillip stalked forward, pushing Buffy aside, his eyes filled with rage. _"Where is he?" _he repeated while he punched the Death Eater hard in the face several times. Mulciber only laughed and Phillip stepped away, his jaw clenched and his entire body shaking with held back fury.

Mulciber laughed. "You won't find him."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "We'll have you spilling your guts soon enough," she told him. "Remus, tie him up." Remus took a step closer, but before he could do anything, the Death Eater grabbed one of the broken pieces of his wand – and stabbed himself in the throat.

Buffy gasped, launching forwards to stop the blood flow. Mulciber was laughing, causing it to dribble out faster. _"Long live...the Dark Lord,"_ he gurgled out, and then his head fell back and he became silent.

"No." Buffy was shaking her head in denial, desperately trying to heal the injury. "Nonononono! I won't let you do this, you bastard! Not until you've told me everything you know!"

"Buffy..." Remus voice was quiet. "It's too late. He's gone."

* * *

**9 September**

Voldemort stared dispassionately down at the blonde boy strapped to his sacrificial altar which had been drenched in the blood he'd gathered from the muggle children he'd killed during their attack on the muggle nursery about a month earlier, and then left to dry. The Dark Lord next reached out for a goblet filled with black liquid – the potion he had had Severus make - and swallowed it in a single gulp.

The male Slayer was tugging angrily at the bonds that kept him strapped down, his eyes burning with fury. The drug – Joshua still had no idea what kind - the Death Eaters had injected into his bloodstream had worn off a few minutes ago, and he was now back at full strength. "You won't get away with this!" he snarled. "I'm going to get out and then I'm going to kick your arse!"

Voldemort only chuckled as he put down the goblet and slowly traced his wand over the floor, watching in eager anticipation as patterns – runes, Arithmancy, magic signs and ritualistic symbols - appeared around the altar, etched deeply into the stone. "I think not. Those are magical bonds. You can struggle as much as you like – it is quite entertaining to watch – but those bonds are unbreakable, even for a Slayer. You're not getting free."

Something akin to fear began to flicker in the Slayer's eyes, but it was quickly suppressed and a stubborn look took its place. "It doesn't matter. My Watcher will come. And Buffy – "

Voldemort began to laugh, his voice high and piercing. "Oh, my dear boy. Joshua, is it not? Joshua! My child! The entire Order of the Phoenix, as well as the Ministry of Magic, have tried - and failed – to find my Headquarters for many years." He leaned down over Joshua's face threateningly. "No one is coming for you. You will die here. _Alone."_

In response, the Slayer brought his head upwards, his forehead connecting with the Dark Lord who stumbled backwards in shock and pain and nearly landed on his butt as he lost his balance. Enraged, Voldemort raised his wand and brought it up, intent on slashing the Slayer's body open. Just before bringing his wand down, he froze.

Voldemort panted. "No," he wheezed angrily, his wand still where he held it positioned above his head. "You won't be able to provoke me into killing you before it's time. Not after all the trouble it took to get you here." He pointed it at the underside of Joshua's elbow and a cut appeared, blood dripping out.

Grabbing a goblet from nearby, the Dark Lord held it under the Slayer's arm, watching greedily as the goblet slowly filled with the boy's blood. Once it was full, the Dark Lord slowly dipped his fingers into the goblet and smeared it in ritualistic patterns across his own forehead, his cheeks, his nose and over his lips, before he drained the rest of the blood in a single gulp.

"You're sick," Joshua breathed out in horror and disgust.

Voldemort chuckled, his lips covered with droplets from the Slayer's blood. He raised his wand again, and held it at a diagonal angle across Joshua's body, while whispering words in Latin.

Joshua cried out as more cuts appeared across his body, these once much larger than the first, his blood spilling out across the altar and down onto the floor like a fountain, filling the hollowed pattern Voldemort had created on the stone floor. Magic began to pulse around the room and Joshua let out a weak groan, his head woozy from a loss of blood and energy and the amount of magic swivelling around.

Voldemort was laughing, his voice nearly gleeful. "You really should have stayed out of this war," he whispered to Joshua, who had tears streaming down his face, the Dark Lord's eyes glowing red as he leaned down to stare into the boy's eyes. "It might have saved your life."

He uttered a final phrase of Latin and both his and Joshua's bodies glowed as the Dark Lord aimed his wand high, pointing it towards the roof, before bringing it down in a forceful slash, the suddenly sharp tip burying itself in the Slayer's chest, into his heart.

Joshua screamed and so did Voldemort, but out of joy, as he felt power – oh, the power! – travel up his wand and into his body, his magic curling around it, embracing it, as it took the Slayer's power for its own. The glow around their bodies pulsed: one, two, three times, and then slowly, the Slayer's body began to disintegrate, Joshua's screams slowly fading into nothing as he lost everything which made him a Slayer, a person, a living being – and then, he was nothing but dust.

Voldemort sank down on his knees before the altar, breathing heavily. After several seconds, he slowly got to his feet, his body trembling.

"My Lord?" The Dark Lord slowly turned around to face the intruder.

"Severus," he wheezed out.

"I-I heard you scream," Snape said hesitantly, glancing at the altar which was covered in blood and dust. "I know you said to keep guard and not disturb you during the ritual, but I was afraid the Slayer had managed to harm you somehow…"

The Dark Lord chuckled hoarsely. "Harm me? Oh, no, quite the opposite." He brought his arm up and before Snape could react, slammed the backside of his hand into his face like a forceful slap – and sent the Death Eater flying backwards several feet until he collided with the wall, dazed and injured. Voldemort's eyes glowed. "Quite the opposite, indeed."

* * *

**10 September**

Dumbledore looked out over the faces of the Order, his face tired, as he thought of Severus' latest report, after which Dumbledore had sent him to the hospital wing. The man had looked a mess, and if what he said was true – and why wouldn't it be? – there really was no wonder... He would not enjoy divulging these particular news...especially not to Phillip Galloway, or Buffy, for that matter. He sighed deeply. "Silence, please."

The members of the Order looked up at him, their faces concerned but hopeful.

"Is there any news of Joshua?" Phillip asked, the Watcher not at all his usually composed self. It was obvious he had gotten little, if any, sleep.

"Yes. But it is...not good, I'm afraid." Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Voldemort, by the way of a ritual, has acquired the powers of a Slayer." Everyone noticeably paled. Buffy was shaking her head in denial, holding a trembling hand against her lips, as understanding began to dawn. Phillip only stared at him impassively. "Unfortunately, this ritual demanded the sacrifice of _another _Slayer. I'm sorry to report that Joshua is dead," the Headmaster finished, bowing his head, cursing his own folly. He knew now what the potion Severus had been asked to brew had been for. It had not been harmless, not at all...and yet, he had told Severus to make it.

"How?" Phillip's voice rang out, his eyes blazing. "You say it was a ritual. What kind of process was it? What did it require?" The majority of the Order looked at him in astonishment. How could the man be so cold, so matter-of-fact, when it was his Slayer who had died? But then, with the Watcher's next question, his voice broke, and all those thoughts were dispelled. "Did he suffer?"

"I was not made privy to the details," Dumbledore admitted. "But other than the life of a Slayer, the ritual also demanded the blood of the innocent – "

"The attack on that muggle school a month ago," Emmeline said. "The children...it was a massacre. Blood everywhere – "

" – You-Know-Who attacked the school to take those children's blood," Sturgis concluded.

"I'm afraid so, yes," Dumbledore nodded. "Second, he needed a potion, which he acquired from his Potions master."

"Three guesses to whom that is and the first two don't count," Sirius muttered to Remus who gave him a reproachful look.

"Third and lastly," Dumbledore continued, "except for his own magic, knowledge of how to do the ritual, of course, but I don't know how he came by it."

"The attack on the Wizarding Library?" Buffy suggested, her voice shaky.

Remus immediately shook his head. "It's a public library. It wouldn't – _doesn't_ – hold that kind of dark knowledge."

"Agreed," Dumbledore said.

"You never answered my question," Phillip spoke up again, his shoulders tense. "Did he _suffer?_ Was he in pain? Where - " his voice broke again, "where is his body?"

"I do not know if he suffered," Dumbledore said. "But these sorts of rituals are rarely painless for the victims." The Watcher must certainly be regretting that he and his Slayer involved themselves in this war now – Phillip had been against it from the very beginning, Dumbledore recalled. "And his body...the ritual left no traces. Only dust remained."

A weird, choking noise escaped Phillip's throat. "I-I see." He blinked furiously, in a futile try to hide the tears in his eyes. "I-I suppose I must contact the Council. They must be made aware of Joshua's death, so we can track down his...successor. The next Slayer must be prepared."

Dumbledore sighed. And now came the second piece of news he would have to break. "There will be no other Slayer."

"W-what?" Phillip blinked at him in lost confusion, and expression mirrored by Buffy. The rest of the Order, too, looked bewildered. "But it always happens," the Watcher said weakly. "When one Slayer dies – "

"The next one's called," Buffy finished for him quietly.

"From what I've learned from my own research, when one Slayer dies, the Slayer power – the Slayer _essence _– is released into the...ether and automatically tracks down and lands in the first potential Slayer it finds, correct?" Dumbledore asked him.

"Y-yes."

"That was not allowed to happen in this case," Dumbledore sighed heavily. "The ritual... Voldemort essentially_ drained _Joshua's Slayer powers – all of them - and took them as his own. The Slayer essence was never released – it was passed onto Voldemort."

"What you're saying – " Buffy looked sick. "What you're saying is that since Voldemort now has Joshua's powers – the Slayer's essence – no new Slayer will be called until – until - " she couldn't say it.

" – Until _Voldemort_ dies, yes," Dumbledore finished for her. "In the eyes of magic, or whatever power that passes the Slayer line forwards, Voldemort _is_ the new Slayer."

"Oh, God," Phillip gasped. "That's - "

"Perversion," Buffy whispered, looking green. "It's so twisted...so _wrong."_

"You are, once again, Buffy, the only Slayer in the world," Dumbledore said. "For while Voldemort carries the power, I think we can all agree that he will not use it for what it's meant to be used."

Buffy let out a weak, humourless little laugh. "Definitely not."

Phillip swallowed. God, how he had failed. He had failed _utterly._ How could he have allowed this to happen? Joshua was his responsibility, and yet... He forced himself to straighten. "I will still have to talk to the Council," he said, voice once again hard, his emotions locked away. There would be time to grieve...later. "I will do all in my power to convince them of the necessity of helping you win this war and give the Order all the resources we can spare."

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Phillip snapped. "Kill Voldemort. As it is, I believe the only way I will get the Council to help is to use the argument that getting rid of Voldemort as quickly as possible – wizard or not, your responsibility or not – is in the Council's best interest, since it is only then a new Slayer will be called. After all, without a Slayer, the Council has no purpose." And with that, the Watcher swept out of the room.

Once Phillip left, the Order meeting quickly broke up, the mood sombre. Sirius left quickly, muttering that he was going to let Lily and James know what happened. Remus and Buffy, however, stayed, Buffy standing completely still, not moving.

"It should have been me," Buffy finally said bitterly when everyone except her and Remus had left.

Remus gaped at her. "What? Buffy, no!"

"Yes, it should have!" Buffy snapped. "I entered this war willingly – Joshua was practically forced into it. I'm the one who tracked him down! I'm the reason he decided to join! If it wasn't for me, he'd be safe!" Tears began to stream down her eyes. She'd even realised Voldemort might be after him, and she'd done nothing – taken no extra precautions – she hadn't even _warned_ Joshua. Why hadn't she warned him? "It should have been me," she whispered again.

* * *

**Trivia**

- The death of the Bones' family is mentioned by Moody in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix chapter nine, and therefore canon. Since Susan Bones in Harry's year calls Amelia Bones, her aunt, that means, other than Edgar, Amelia must have at least one more male sibling to whom Susan is the child - a third Bones' brother. The reason Susan's dad cannot be the canon Edgar Bones is because it is specifically mentioned in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix chapter 25 that Susan's uncle (who must be Edgar), aunt (Edgar's wife) and cousins (cousins is plural, so I gave Edgar two children) were the Boneses who were killed. Since Susan's parents are rather important but were not mentioned in the death count, I deduced that they must still be alive. As for the presence of her grandparents, I suppose I could have left them out/let them live, for while J.K. Rowling mentioned in an interview during 2000 that the Boneses killed were Susan's grandparents, they are not mentioned in the books, but I decided to simply add them to the bodycount instead...

- Dolohov's capture is canon - in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, during the pensieve memory of Karkaroff's trial, we learn that _"he was caught shortly after yourself _[Karkaroff]", but timewise, it happened in 1980, not 1981. During the same chapter, we also learn that _"Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries"_ was a Ministry spy for Voldemort. I had him tell Voldemort the news of Dolohov and Travers' capture for the simply reason that his place as an Unspeakable and Ministry informant is canon - he was in the best position to learn of it quickly.

- It is unknown exactly which Death Eaters were involved in the Bones' deaths, but it is known that they were part of the Azkaban mass breakout (10 prisoners escaped) in January 1996 (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix). Death Eaters mentioned by name then were Bellatrix, Dolohov and Rookwood as well as the crimes they were convicted for. As the Bones family was rather prominent, I believe that crime should have been mentioned underneath the name of the Death Eater responsible which leaves Bellatrix, Dolohov and Rookwood in the clear. A few of the other escapees are then named in the battle in the Department of Mysteries, among them Mulciber (Jr), who was captured in the previous chapter, and the Lestrange brothers, whose most prominent crime seems to be the torture of the Longbottoms with Bellatrix. That leaves three unknown Death Eaters, plus Travers. Travers is not mentioned as an escapee in the books, as far as I know, but all my sources still have him listed as one of the escapees. Since Susan Bones specifically mentions that 'a' Death Eater killed her uncle, aunt and cousins in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, I decided to make Travers the one responsible instead of using a Death Eater OC for such a large crime, so I had the spells that killed them come from his wand, while still giving him backup in the attack. I don't found it sensible that a single Death Eater could take out a whole family without help, especially when Moody called Edgar a 'great wizard' in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and the Bones is seen as a quite prominent family: Amelia Bones' murder is one of the first that occurs during the second war once Voldemort has revealed himself to the public, believed to have been executed by the Dark Lord himself (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince), which tells me he was quite eager to get her out of the way as soon as possible - i.e. he saw her as a threat.

- There are a lot of facts in the _Daily Prophet_ article about Dumbledore, all of which is canon: Dumbledore was born in 1881, making 100 years old in 1981 (J.K. Rowling mentioned this on her website in 2011, which supercedes her statement from 2001 where she said he was "about 150" and also fits better with canon dates from book 7). His defeat of Grindelwald in 1945 and his work with Nicholas Flamel are mentioned on his chocolate frog card (Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone).

- I decided that vampires can smell whether or not someone is a virgin for the very simple reason that virgin blood in several myths and stories are meant to be more appetizing. In Angel 5x13: Why We Fight, it is even mentioned that a trio of vampires (Spike among them) were lured to a supposed virgin-blood party, which tells me the same holds true for the Buffy-verse.

- The arrow firing spell is the outlawed (i.e. illegal) spell Remus taught Buffy in ROI.

- About vamps and their fashion (or lack-thereof): in Buffy the Vampire Slayer 1x1: Welcome to the Hellmouth, Buffy pointed out a vampire to Giles by simply looking at what he was wearing, calling it a 'carbon dated' outfit - and that's just one example.

- Trashcans "R" Us is of course a play on the name of the famous American toy company, Toys "R" Us, which was founded in 1948, so I find it likely Joshua would have heard of it, though it only went international in 1984.

- The drug the Death Eater gave Joshua is meant to be a faster acting wizarding made version of the injections Giles used on Buffy before her Cruciamentum in Buffy the Vampire Slayer 3x12: Helpless, which took away her powers.

- At Voldemort's resurrection in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Voldemort mentions six Death Eaters are missing: One coward (Karkaroff), one he believes has left him forever (Snape) and one who has already re-entered his service (Crouch Jr). He also mentions three who died in his service. I have decided that these three Death Eaters are Evan Rosier, who died in the last chapter, and Mulciber Sr and Rosier Sr, who died in this one.

- I chose to make Voldemort do the ritual on the ninth of September (9/9) since nine is a very magical number and such things are important to him.

- Sirius obviously believes Snape is a Death Eater and therefore his Potions Master, due to his prejudice. Remus, by his look, is asking him not to jump to conclusions. Ironically, Sirius is correct, though he obviously doesn't know about Snape being a double agent.

- "Without a Slayer, the Council has no purpose." Phillip here admits, without being prompted, what it took the Watcher's Council being cowered into submission by Buffy to realise in the Buffy-verse (5x12: Checkpoint).


	24. Serpent

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**24 September**

Voldemort absently stroked the back of his pet-snake, Nagini, while he listened to her hissing out a report of her daily activities. Quite boring, really – she was a _snake, _after all – but he liked indulging her. He hadn't had her very long and she was still quite young, but she was a magical breed and he was already quite fond of her, and she of him.

"...Ratssss...the man sssmellsssss of ratsssss...I want him, masssster."

The Dark Lord's thin, near translucent lips twitched in amusement. "I'm afraid I cannot allow you to eat, Wormtail, Nagini," he hissed out in Parseltongue. "I still have need of him." Nagini hissed in anger. "I have a mission for you, my dear," Voldemort continued and the large snake noticeably perked up.

"What, masssster? Whatwhatwhatwhat?" Nagini was practically trembling from excitement. In snake years, she was little more than a child, and Voldemort had not ordered her to do anything for him yet. Instead, he had worked on building up trust between them and the serpent was now willing to do anything for him.

"Deep down within Hogwarts, there is a chamber," the Dark Lord said. "And within this chamber, your king rests, waiting for the day she will be released. She has been very patient – it has been years since I was able to visit her – and deserves to be fed."

Nagini bobbed her head back and forth in confusion. "My king?"

"Your king, and the king of every other serpent," Voldemort said. "A Basilisk." Nagini let out a long, thrilled hiss. "But I need your help in releasing her. This is a very important mission, Nagini. Go to Hogwarts, enter the chamber – you can access it from a girl's bathroom on the second floor by telling the sinks to open – wake your emperor and tell her to continue her master's final order: to kill all the mudbloods within the school and all who would dare stand in her way. After she is done, she may chose whether she wants to go back to sleep or join me by my side. Also tell her there is no need to be discreet, no need to hide. The school is her table and its inhabitants the buffet."

Nagini seemed to snigger. "It ssssshhhhall be done, masssster," the snake hissed, slithering down from Voldemort's lap and exiting the room.

Once she was gone, Voldemort leaned back in his throne, flexing his fingers. The ritual that had given him a Slayer's power had worked perfectly. He felt healthier than ever, he needed less sleep and of course, his physical strength was greatly enhanced, along with his reflexes. Still, even with these new powers, he preferred to use magic – hitting people was so _muggle,_ not to mention uncivilised – and the ritual had helped even there, increasing his magical reserves.

Some, if they'd known his thoughts, might call the ritual a waste – after all, if he did not plan to use the physical powers he had gained, what was the point? But power was power, and the fact was, he now had it and _could_ use it if he wanted or needed to. And with his increased stamina, he would be an even more dangerous opponent than before. Even Dumbledore would not be able to stand against him – compared to him now, he would be slow – too slow, to win a duel.

His thin lips twitched. Dumbledore had been a thorn in his side for so long, and Voldemort found the recent articles in the _Daily Prophet,_ all blaming the Headmaster for the continuing war, very amusing. There was no doubt that the old man was already in trouble, and that was nothing compared to the firestorm of condemnation that would meet the Headmaster once his Basilisk was unleashed at Hogwarts. If the public still had any trust in Dumbledore to keep them safe, that would fail, the moment his oh, so safe school came under attack – from a Basilisk, no less, which had been resting within the castle itself!

Voldemort chuckled to himself. There was no doubt a great deal of people –_ children _– would die. And by making sure his followers within the Ministry occupied Dumbledore elsewhere, the staff should pose little challenge for the giant serpent - the remaining Slayer would probably be sent for to stop it. But even a Slayer would not be able to kill the Basilisk, he was sure. He hoped Summers would die trying, knowing she had once again failed, just like she had failed her fellow Slayer.

* * *

**25 September**

"Hello? Anyone?" The marauders, Lily and Buffy turned to face the fireplace in Remus and Buffy's living room with astonishment, where the group had gathered for a friendly chat. Lily and James were no longer able to just sit idle in Godric's Hollow, despite security concerns. So when Sirius came over and said he, Remus, Peter and Buffy were all going to meet up at Remus' house, they had decided to tag along. In fact, it was Lily's idea, to James' astonishment, though he hadn't protested: all of them being together at the same time, without any other people present, were getting rarer and rarer.

Perhaps it was slightly foolhardy, but, as Lily had pointed out, it wasn't like the traitor was one of the marauders or Buffy, even though James had a feeling Sirius still harboured some left-over suspicions about Remus' loyalty. Besides, Buffy was in deep need of cheering up, the Slayer – now the only one again, since no one counted Voldemort – having been down ever since Joshua died. And indeed, Buffy had been rather happy to see them.

"Professor Flitwick?" Lily exclaimed in shocked surprise.

"Oh, thank Merlin," the Charms professor said. While not an official member of the Order, the man was still aware and supportive of it. "A Basilisk is loose at Hogwarts and the Headmaster is nowhere to be found!"

Everyone stared. "A...Basilisk?" Lily said faintly. "They're supposed to be extinct!"

"Tell that to the one currently slithering about, petrifying and killing students!" Flitwick exclaimed. The next second, a large crash could be heard and the small professor jumped. "I've got to go!"

His head disappeared from the fire and the room exploded into action. Harry began to cry.

"A Basilisk?" James asked, astonished. "How? Why? And where is Dumbledore?"

"It doesn't matter right now," Sirius dismissed, already moving to the fire and throwing in a handful of floo powder. _"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Filius Flitwick's office!"_ Stepping into the now green flames, he disappeared from view. Remus and Buffy quickly followed, the Slayer armed with a sword and katana.

Both James and Lily moved towards the fire at the same time, only to stop to glare at each other. "You're not going!" they chorused.

James pursed his lips. "Someone has to stay to take care of Harry and get hold of the Ministry and the rest of the Order," he said. _'Not that a lot of it remains,' _he added to himself. So many of them had been killed lately. First Dorcas... then Marlene...Benjy...the Prewett twins...Edgar... Too many.

"Exactly!" Lily said triumphantly, and poked her husband in the chest. "And since you _always_ somehow manage to get to be the one to head off whenever the Order has to face a threat, it's my turn now. _You _can stay behind for once!"

"I'm not letting you head off to face a _Basilisk!" _James exclaimed.

"Try to stop me!" Lily challenged.

Peter coughed. "I hate to interrupt, but you're wasting time," he reminded them. "And there's a solution to this. We all know I'm not a fighter – "

James frowned. "Wormtail – "

"No," Peter held up a hand. "Let me speak. I'm not a fighter. Just the thought of facing a B-Basilisk makes me want to faint. Both of you go. I'll watch Harry and contact the Order and the Auror office."

"Peter, are you sure?"

"Yes. Go!"

James and Lily exchanged looks, before they quickly entered the floo, after giving Harry a quick peck goodbye, their hearts breaking slightly as he was still crying.

The moment they were gone, Peter gave the baby a baleful look. "Oh, be quiet," he snapped as he leaned back against the sofa. Harry let out a hiccup of surprise at the angry tone, big tears falling from his green eyes. Several minutes passed by, Peter only watching the clock, paying no attention whatsoever to Harry who was still sniffing quietly.

Finally, after ten minutes had gone by, Peter deemed he had stalled long enough – surely the Basilisk had had more than enough time to wreck havoc by now – and moved towards the fire, putting on a panicked, terrified expression as he threw a pinch of floo-powder into the flames. _"Ministry of Magic, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement!"_

* * *

"What took you so long?" Sirius wondered when Lily and James finally arrived by floo to Flitwick's office. "Never mind," he added, already moving towards the door. "Let's go."

"Peter stayed behind?" Remus asked as they entered the corridor.

"Yes," Lily answered. "He's watching Harry, and he'll try to get hold of the Order and the Aurors."

"Backup would be nice," Remus mused.

"As long as they don't get in between me and the Basilisk," Buffy sing-songed, twirling her sword threateningly. Violence. It was just what she needed right now. Ever since Joshua got killed, she had needed to vent her pent-up aggression on something, and normal patrol wasn't nearly enough. "It's a snake of some kind, right?"

"A big one," Lily nodded. "With eyes that kill instantly if you look into them."

"Don't look directly into its eyes. Check." Buffy nodded, her eyes shining with excitement as she realised this might even be a challenge. Even better. "Anything else I should know?"

"It has poisonous fangs – the venom's deadly - and it's highly spell resistant. And its hide is really...thick." Lily trailed off as they turned a corner and for the first time came face to face with the destruction the Basilisk had already managed to wreck.

They all stared in horror at the petrified, unconscious – or dead – students lying in the corridors they passed. Exchanging grim looks, they increased their pace and moved towards the sound of battle, which seemed to be coming from the Great Hall.

"Don't look into its eyes," Remus reminded them as they turned the corner to the entrance hall and abruptly stopped.

The large, thick, beautiful doors to the Great Hall had been completely smashed apart by something that was evidently enormous, despite the obvious signs of them having been both reinforced and barricaded from the inside in an attempt to keep the Basilisk out.

Slowly, the marauders inched towards the Great Hall, keeping their bodies pressed against the walls to avoid being noticed. They didn't need to have worried. The Basilisk's attention was completely stuck on the Great Hall's occupants. From the amount of people in the room, it was clear it was the last 'haven' for the castle's inhabitants, the professors presumably leading all students there so they would all be in one place and more easily protected, not spread out in clusters across the castle, where they would be easy prey for the King of Serpents.

The professors all stood in a defensive row in front of the students, some of whom tried to help, by adding their own spells to the professors' that were aimed at the gigantic snake, but all of them simply ricocheted off the thick skin, while the Basilisk's teeth snapped away at them. Professor Birchanov had already been bitten and was clearly dying – a Basilisk's venom was fatal. Their only saving grace and the reason they weren't all dead was the fact that the Basilisk's eyes had been taken out. But even this didn't help as much as one would think, except by stopping immediate death in case of eye-contact, considering the snake's keen sense of smell told it exactly where everyone were.

"I know you said it was big," Buffy said slowly as she took in the sight of the serpent, gripping her sword and katana tighter as they came closer and closer to the door opening. "You forgot to mention it was _huge_." It had to be at least fifty feet in length. Absently she wondered if it was bigger or smaller than the mayor-turned-snake-demon the Scoobies had told her they'd faced at Graduation day, when Faith had been forced to blow up Sunnydale High to take it down. "I long for explosives."

"Roosters would be better," Lily commented absently as they slowly stepped forward into the ruined door opening. The Basilisk was so massive no one spotted them, the snake's large body hiding them from view.

Buffy quickly took in the scene in the Great Hall, memorising the position of the teachers, students and Basilisk, while also taking note of the debris, furniture and things which could potentially be used as a weapon or otherwise aid her. "Cover me," she abruptly exclaimed and rushed forwards. Remus cursed before he, James, Sirius and Lily followed as quickly as they could. Lily didn't notice Severus among the professors, the man giving her a wide-eyed look of astonishment when he spotted her.

"A little difficult when she's more than twice as fast," Sirius remarked and shot a curse at the Basilisk's tail, successfully gaining the snake's attention. With a roar, it spun around, the tail slashing through the air in the process, knocking Filch and professor McGonagall into a wall.

Using a table as a launching point, Buffy threw herself up into the air and forwards, while the others shot spells at the snake's skin from both sides. Unfortunately, the Slayer quickly realised she had miscalculated the serpent's length. Instead of landing on its neck or head, where she would have been in a perfect position to drive either her sword or katana into its brain, thereby killing it, she landed – rather ungracefully – on the middle of its body.

The Basilisk immediately began to trash and buck in an attempt to throw her off, clearly sensing it had something on its back that wasn't supposed to be there. Buffy quickly scrambled for a grip, but the bright green scales were surprisingly slippery and she lost both her katana and sword as she did her best to hang on.

After many ungraceful minutes, Buffy finally found her balance long enough for her to grab the knife she had in her boot. The Slayer slammed it down into the Basilisk back, before using the handle as leverage to climb higher onto the snake. The serpent trashed in pain and anger.

"Don' hurt her! She's just scared!" Hagrid bellowed at the Slayer from where he was covering several first years with his large body. Everyone turned to give the gamekeeper incredulous looks, before they quickly turned back to face the snake.

"I'm afraid it can't be helped," Lily told him, trying to keep her tone of voice gentle for the half-giant's sake, but since she had only just managed to avoid being bitten by the snake's large, venomous fangs, it came out slightly harsher than intended.

The Basilisk reared up in another attempt to dislodge Buffy, who was still scrambling upwards to get to its head, and James ran under it, aiming the most powerful cutting curse he knew at its belly where the hide wasn't quite as thick. Of course, it was still substantial, not to mention highly spell resistant. A small gash, barely four inches, and not even close to the size James had hoped it would be, opened up. But though it was small, it became clear the Basilisk could feel it, as it struck out in anger, the marauder only just managing to avoid its snapping jaw by darting away at the last second.

When the snake reared again, James ran underneath it for a second time, repeating his previous actions, before quickly escaping. It felt strangely like a dance, albeit a potentially deadly one, he mused, as he continued doing the same thing over and over, managing to widen the gash on the snake's belly little by little each time. A few feet away and to the side, Lily stood, aiming spells at the serpent's head whenever it seemed to get too close to James, aiding him in getting away.

Sirius and Remus, in the meantime, were having their own deadly dance with the Basilisk's tail. The two Order members had picked up the katana and sword that Buffy had dropped when it became clear their wands had little to no effect. Unfortunately, neither of the weapons made much of an impact either.

Whenever they managed to land a blow, which wasn't often - the tail never stayed still, constantly slashing through the air, forcing Sirius and Remus to constantly duck or risk getting hit. Sirius had no doubt a hit from the Basilisk's tail would hurt -_ a lot_ – and would probably break several bones. Filch and professor McGonagall still hadn't gotten up and the dog animagus was very worried about the Transfiguration professor, considering her age. If he were honest, he had to admit that he couldn't care less about the caretaker's well-being.

"Remus!" Buffy, having successfully scrambled up the serpent's body and was now balancing precariously where the neck met the head, yelled. "Throw!"

Remus quickly glanced down at the sword he was holding, before he threw it at the Slayer, who caught it and slammed the sharp end, point first, into the Basilisk's head, successfully impaling its brain.

The serpent let out a loud roar of pain, its yellow eyes rolling back up into its head as it trashed wildly, and Buffy went flying, landing painfully on her back. The Basilisk was in its death throes, and Sirius, Remus, James and Lily only just managed to avoid being hit. Finally, it stopped moving, its enormous body sinking to the floor with a loud thump.

All was silent as everyone just stared at the dead carcass, hardly able to believe it was over. Buffy slowly clambered to her feet.

"So...that was fun," she said, her voice surprisingly light-hearted.

The students and staff that were still standing only stared at her blankly, while Remus, Sirius, Lily and James began to chuckle quietly. It didn't take long for their chuckles to turn into full blown laughter, and then they were suddenly leaning on each other, gasping for breath as they continued expelling sounds of amusement, unable to stop. Sirius fell over, rolling on the floor and holding his stomach as he snorted. None of them were really sure why they were laughing – despite Buffy's comment, there really wasn't anything funny to laugh about.

Finally, they managed to get a hold of themselves and they slowly straightened up, only to realise they were not just being observed by the students and staff, but also by Dumbledore and Ministry Aurors and personnel, who must have arrived sometime during their laughter. All of them were either dumbly staring at them, or at the Basilisk corpse, some of them whimpering.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "There's no need to pee your pants. It's dead. No thanks to you," he added under his breath, too low to be heard by anyone except Remus and Buffy, who gave him amused looks.

"You're just in time for clean-up duty," Buffy said, facing Dumbledore with a too wide smile, and clapping the dumbstruck Headmaster on the shoulder. "Oh, I almost forgot!" Still smiling, she climbed up the Basilisk's body once again, this time pulling the sword out of its head nonchalantly, the blade covered in blood and brain matter which slowly dripped onto the floor as she held it up in a victory pose. "This is _definitely_ going up on our wall, Re," she gushed, hugging the still dripping sword against her chest, adrenaline still rushing through her veins. "It will look great above our mantle!"

Remus gave her a fond look, while two people from the Ministry fainted.

"It's so nice to see the Ministry being fierce as usual," Sirius said dryly. James only barely held back a snort, covering it up with a cough.

"I'm going to help Madame Pomfrey take care of the injured," Buffy said with a slight laugh. Sirius expression suddenly turned grave.

"Make sure to check on professor McG," he said worriedly. "She took quite a hit." Buffy nodded, before she walked away, heading towards McGonagall who was already being tended to by a worried looking Madame Pomfrey.

Dumbledore, who had been listening, turned pale. "Minerva was hurt?"

"Yes," Lily frowned at him, still unaware of Severus' presence, or that the man had hardly taken his eyes off her since she arrived. "And so were a lot of other people, including students. Where were you anyway?"

"The Ministry. An emergency session of the Wizengamot was called earlier today..."

"And was it an emergency?" James asked with a raised eyebrow.

The Headmaster slowly shook his head. "No...not really. Nothing that couldn't have waited." His shoulders slumped and he suddenly looked his age.

"A coincidence? I think not," Remus muttered.

* * *

"Lily."

Lily spun around, her hands covered in blood, as she had decided to help Buffy and Madame Pomfrey to heal those injured – but not bitten – by the Basilisk, her green eyes widening when she saw Severus.

"Severus," she whispered, astonished. "What are you doing here? Are you part of the people who came from the Ministry?"

"No. I work here. At the school."

Lily blinked. "You work here," she repeated, hardly able to believe her ears. "At the school. As a teacher."

Severus nodded shortly. "I'm the new Potions professor," he said.

"But you have no patience!" Lily blurted out before she could stop herself. She blushed. "I'm sorry, I just – I can't see you as a professor, that's all. You've always disliked those who don't share your own level of intelligence. I always figured you'd hole yourself up in a lab somewhere, where you wouldn't need to interact with anyone and could focus entirely on your Potions. You told me so many times while we were at school that that's what you wanted. Every time I read a Potions journal, I half expect your name to be in there as the mind behind some new, miraculous discovery."

Severus gave her a tender look, his heart warming as he realised he still crossed Lily's mind, at least sometimes. She still cared. At least Potter hadn't been able to take that away as well. "Yes, well, things don't always work out like we planned. And we find our calling in the most unexpected places."

Lily gave him a look full of scepticism. "You think being a professor is your new calling? Please, Severus, we may not have been close for years, but I think I still know you well enough to be able to tell when you're lying. Why have you chosen to work at Hogwarts, when you could probably have your pick of positions within the field of Potions? You're brilliant."

"Never as brilliant as you," Severus said ruefully, deflecting her question.

Lily's mouth opened and closed several times, and then, she sighed. "I don't have time for this," she muttered, turning her attention back to the injured students. "And neither do you. If you're a professor here, shouldn't you be checking on the students?"

Severus flushed. "I will." And then, he kneeled down beside her, pulling out several bottles full of healing potions from inside his robes. Lily bit her lip. She hadn't meant he should do it _here._ She felt incredibly uncomfortable with his proximity – there was so much history between them, so many things they'd left unsaid... But telling him to go somewhere else would be rude. Instead, she just sighed, and silently, they began to work together, side by side.

"I heard you have a son, now," Severus said, in an attempt to break the tension, even though listening to Lily talk about the son she shared with _Potter_ was among the least enjoyable things he could think of. But, predictably enough, Lily lit up.

"I do!" She beamed, her smile lighting up her entire face. Severus almost felt his heart break, wishing it was him – and not the mention of her son – that had put it there. "James and I named him Harry. He looks so much like his dad already."

"Brilliant," Severus deadpanned. Lily only nodded, either not noticing his sarcasm, or ignoring it deliberately.

"It is – he's so cute!" Lily gushed. "Everyone's been pointing out that he has my eyes, though."

"Fantastic," Severus mumbled, wishing he had never brought the brat up. Just the thought of a miniature Potter brat with Lily's green eyes – he'd always loved her eyes – made him want to puke.

"Sirius gave Harry a broomstick for his birthday, you know," Lily continued. "I think he hopes to corrupt him early. Harry loves it – it's his favourite toy. If he had a choice, he'd zoom around on it all day. He loves the speed." Severus couldn't quite hold back a snort of derision, and Lily seemed to finally realise he really didn't want to hear about Harry. Her smile abruptly slipped from her face and she bit her lip, looking down.

"I guess you don't care to know about that," Lily mumbled, feeling stupid. Of course Severus didn't want to hear about her and James' son. Why would he? She knew Severus had been in love with her, or thought he was, at least – she had to be stupid not to. For all she knew, he might still have feelings for her. And if that was the case, to Severus, it would probably feel like she was rubbing her life with James in his face.

She sighed, deciding to focus on helping the students rather than dwell on what Severus felt or didn't feel. After awhile, as they fell into a routine, it _almost _began to feel like old times. Almost. But, even as Severus brought up a memory from their schooldays that made her laugh, the redhead was uncomfortably aware that, professor or not, old friend or not, it was still likely she was sitting next to a marked Death Eater.

* * *

"You might want to go check on your wife, Prongs," Sirius told James loudly, raising an eyebrow at him.

James, who had been on his way to say hello to professor McGonagall (now conscious again, thank Merlin), threw him an alarmed look. "What do you mean? Is Lily hurt?"

"Oh, she's fine," Sirius said dismissively. "Very fine. In fact, she looks positively cheery -and so does Snivellus." He threw a meaningful look across the room, and James frowned, following his eyes, tensing up when he saw Lily and Severus Snape with their heads closely put together, talking. Just then, Snape said something, and Lily let out a slight laugh.

James' jaw clenched as the jealousy of the friendship between Lily and Snape from their early school days that had made him act like a total prat for years reared its ugly head. He took a deep breath. "Lily has a right to talk to whomever she wants," he said, hoping he sounded more gracious than he felt. "And Snape is an old friend of hers. It's only natural they want to catch up."

Sirius snorted. _"Lily _might want to catch up, but I bet _Snivellus_ has something else in mind."

James gave him a glare, severely annoyed with his best friend right now. "Padfoot," he began slowly, "I'm trying to be the better man here, alright?" He said through gritted teeth. "Your innuendoes aren't exactly _helping. _And stop calling him Sn –" he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "We're not at school anymore."

Sirius let his eyes travel over the Great Hall. "Actually, I think we are," he said musingly. His eyes twinkled. "What do you say? Should we threaten to pull Snivellus' pants off? For old times' sake?"

James face burned as he remembered _that_ particular incident. Merlin, he'd been such a bully... _"No," _he said sharply._ "_We're not doing _anything,_ Sirius. Please. Just _stop. _We're all adults now - let's act like it, alright?"

"Now, that's words I never thought would cross James Potter's mouth in the same sentence," a familiar voice said from behind them. "Times _are _changing."

James and Sirius spun around, a wide grin appearing on James' face as he saw who had spoken. "Amanda!" He greeted, giving his old team-mate a hug. "How are you? You're a sixth year now, right? Can I trust you're still playing Quidditch?"

Amanda nodded, happily returning the hug from her old Quidditch captain. "I'm Quidditch Captain now, actually," the Seeker said.

"Brilliant! Have you continued our winning streak?"

The smile slipped a little. "I'm sorry to say no," Amanda admitted. "We haven't won the Quidditch Cup since you left."

James smirked a little. "I always knew I was irreplaceable."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "I'm glad to see _some things_ remain the same. Your arrogance still knows no bounds."

James laughed a little. "Lily keeps it mostly in check these days," he said.

"He's whipped," Sirius agreed.

"Are you injured anywhere?" James asked, looking Amanda over critically.

Amanda shook her head. "No, I'm fine." She bit her lip. "One of my roommates was killed though. She looked into the Basilisk's eyes..."

"I'm sorry," James said sympathetically.

"Thanks," Amanda muttered, pulling a hand through her dark hair. "I got to admit, I never expected the war to actually reach inside Hogwarts like this."

"Me neither," James said. "A Basilisk..." He shook his head. "Does anyone know where it came from?"

"I heard some of the students speculating whether it could have come from the legendary Chamber of Secrets," Amanda said. "It's supposed to have contained a monster of some sorts that Salazar Slytherin left behind. It can hardly get more monstrous than a Basilisk, can it?"

"But that Chamber was never found," Sirius argued. "Last time the Chamber was allegedly opened, didn't they search the school from top to bottom?"

Amanda shrugged. "I'm only telling you what I heard. I think some of the professors and the people from the Ministry are going to try and retrace the Basilisk's...eh...steps, to see where it came from."

"At least the trail of bodies is a clue," James muttered.

"It could have been worse," Amanda said. "You arrived at precisely the right time." She looked to be in awe. "I still can't believe _Buffy _managed to kill that thing."

"She's full of surprises," Sirius agreed.

"By the way, I – and most of Gryffindor – have been meaning to write you and thank you," Amanda said to James. "You and Lily both."

James looked astonished. "Why?" He asked.

"For keeping our hopes of," Amanda said. "Do you remember the speech you held in your seventh year, after the attack in the beginning April?" James nodded. "That was the first time you gave us hope, and you told us that when you graduated, you would be out there fighting. A lot of people thought you were all talk, but then the newspapers began to report your exploits. As the war got worse and more and more students lost a loved someone, to open the _Daily Prophet_ and read that you and Lily were standing up to You-Know-Who really helped, especially in Gryffindor.

"I mean, we_ knew_ you. You weren't just some Auror, but real! Someone we'd gone to school with, shared a common room with. Flown with," she added cheekily. "To hear that someone...ordinary could do something _extraordinary_ was such a comfort. We all remembered your speech and as we read about you and Lily facing You-Know-Who, you proved that you'd kept your word – you said you weren't going to sit on the sidelines, and you didn't.

"We were all very surprised to read that you'd resigned from the Auror Academy. The newspapers were really harsh on you for awhile after that, and I have to admit, so were a lot of people at school," Amanda explained. "The Slytherins were all saying you'd gotten scared and a lot of Gryffindor were disappointed – they thought you'd given up. But then the articles began to publish stuff about you again. You'd resigned from the Aurors, but you were still fighting back, which only made it even more impressive. You weren't doing it because it was your job, but because you wanted to do the right thing. A lot of the younger students even have newspaper clippings about you on their walls, with enlarged pictures. You're their hero. A reminder that normal people can, and do, make a difference. So...thank you."

James face was red. "But the younger students...they don't know me," he stammered. "It's been three years since I left Hogwarts – "

" – But the oldest still remember," Amanda reminded him. "And they're all more than happy to share stories with the youngest about your pranks and stuff, so in a way, you're real to them too. It keeps their spirits up. Something they sorely need."

"Wow, James," Sirius teased. "Make sure to sign some autographs before you leave," he joked. "You've got to keep _people's spirits up_ after all."

James threw him an unimpressed look. "Don't be an idiot, Pads." He was suddenly uncomfortably aware of the people looking at him: a lot of the younger students had stars in their eyes, or were looking up at him with awe. And the older students, some of which he recognised – he thought he spotted Rory Rogers, who'd been reserve Beater for Gryffindor – were either giving him nods in greeting, or looks of respect or wonder. And those that weren't looking at him were looking at Buffy, no doubt impressed by the way she had handled the basilisk. The Slayer, unlike James, however, weren't noticing any of the looks, completely focused on the injured students. "Oh, Merlin..." He covered his face with his hands.

"I can't believe you're embarrassed!" Amanda exclaimed, laughing gleefully. "I was sure you'd - I don't know -_ strut_ or something. If this had happened while you were at school, you'd have puffed up like a peacock."

"Yes, well, I was a prick," James muttered.

Amanda threw him an admiring look. "You really _do_ deserve to be called a hero," she said.

"Oh, Amanda, don't start treating me differently now!" James begged. "I couldn't stand it. It's bad enough that some people have pictures of me on their walls! That's kind of disturbing, to be honest."

"Yeah," Sirius drawled. "For all we know, they're fantasising about you at night."

Amanda snorted, but James paled.

Just then, Remus walked over to them. "What are you talking about? Oh, hello, Amanda."

Amanda smiled at Remus. "Hi, Remus. Impressive throw." Remus gave her a confused look. "The sword you threw to Buffy," Amanda reminded him.

"Oh, right!" Remus nodded. "Thanks. But my girlfriend did all the hard work."

"Oh, I think you and I were plenty impressive," Sirius told him dryly. "We should get a medal for professional ducking."

Amanda chuckled. "There's one thing I don't understand – you two kept slashing the Basilisk's tail, but didn't injure it at all. And yet _Buffy_ managed to kill it with a single thrust."

Remus, Sirius and James exchanged looks, not sure what to tell Amanda. On the one hand, Buffy's status as a Slayer was a closely guarded secret. On the other, it was unlikely it would stay that way after her display against the Basilisk.

"She found its weak spot," Remus finally said, deciding it was up to Buffy to decide who to tell.

Amanda nodded. "That makes sense, I guess."

"What's Snape doing here?" Remus asked, changing the subject. James wanted to know that as well, especially since he and his wife was still looking rather cosy.

"Oh, didn't you know?" Amanda looked surprised. "Slughorn retired after last year, so he's our new professor in Potions."

The three marauders stared at her. "He's a _professor?"_ Remus sounded incredulous.

Amanda nodded. "I dropped potions after my OWLs, so I don't have him for classes, but those who do take his class say he's...well, he's not _bad, _exactly, just not very...instructive."

Sirius and James raised their eyebrows.

"I bet he isn't," Sirius snorted. "He has the patience of a flobberworm."

"He might get better later on," Amanda hurriedly added, looking a bit uncomfortable to be talking about a professor behind his back, even if she had gone to school with him. "It might be nerves."

Both James and Sirius looked sceptical and Remus looked plain annoyed. "He's a _professor?"_ He repeated. "That's so unfair!"

Sirius, James and Amanda gave him strange looks and Remus blushed. "I'm just..." he sighed. "I've always wanted to teach," he admitted. "But Snape...I just can't see it. It's doesn't seem like something he would enjoy. It's a little bit unfair, that's all, if someone who doesn't even _like_ teaching gets a job as a professor, while I can't!"

Sirius and James threw him sympathetic looks while Amanda looked confused. "Why wouldn't you be able to teach?" she asked.

Remus froze, exchanging worried looks with James and Sirius. "Uhh..." Luckily, he didn't have to come up with an answer, as Buffy took that moment to walk up to them, nonchalantly carrying her sword over her shoulder.

"Hey, can we leave?" she asked Remus. The adrenaline had worn off and all the students in the hall that had died or were already dead before she could help them reminded her of someone else she hadn't been able to help – Joshua. Besides, she wasn't needed anymore: Healers from St. Mungo's, who had not participated in a battle against a Basilisk beforehand, had arrived, and were now carting off the dead, and portkeying away those who needed more serious treatment than the hospital wing at Hogwarts could offer them.

Remus immediately seemed to realise this and nodded. "Of course. It was nice to see you again, Amanda."

"Likewise. Nice work with the Basilisk, Buffy," Amanda said.

Buffy smiled slightly. "Thanks. It was fun." She turned to James and Sirius. "Are you guys coming as well? Harry is still at our place with Peter."

"Oh, right!" James nodded. "We should get Harry to bed – it's getting rather late, and I'd rather not be here when the reporters arrive. And I bet you don't either, Buffy."

Buffy shook her head. "Really, really not," she agreed.

James nodded. "Lily, we're leaving!" He called over to his wife.

* * *

Lily turned her head when she heard James' call, seeing him stand by the smashed doors waiting alongside Remus, Buffy, Sirius, and who she thought she recognised as Amanda Lorne, who was now hugging the four goodbye.

"Wait a minute," Lily called back, turning her attention back to Severus, whose lips twitched.

"I bet Potter didn't like that answer."

Lily blinked at him. "James doesn't own me, Severus."

"Are you sure _he _knows that?" Severus asked dryly.

Lily looked annoyed and her green eyes narrowed dangerously. _"That _was out of line."

"I'm sorry," Severus said, an abashed look on his face. "It just stings that you're leaving so soon." '_With Potter,' _he added in his head. Lily's eyes softened slightly. "Potter wins again." He was unable to keep the bitter tone out of his voice.

Lily gave him an exasperated look. "It's not a competition! And it never was! I'm not some price to be won, and if you think that, then you don't know me at all. It was never about _choosing James over you_ – I_ love_ him, it's as simple as that. Look," Lily pulled a frustrated hand through her red hair, "I really have to go, but I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what I said before, about professorship not suiting you."

"Why?" Severus shrugged, even as he tried to push away the sting of her verbal rejection: no matter how Lily put it, in his ears it still sounded as though she thought he wasn't good enough. "You were right."

"No, I wasn't," Lily said. "You were, when you said things don't always work out the way we plan." Severus' heart skipped a beat. Was Lily regretting her marriage to Potter? But no - her next sentence killed that flickering hope: "If a professor is what you want to be, I have no right to come here and judge you just because I stupidly thought something else."

"You're many things, Lily, but never stupid," Severus said quietly, his dark eyes serious.

"What I'm trying to say is that since I was wrong about that, I hope I was wrong about other things as well," Lily said, ignoring his input. "That..._all _your plans after school changed and not just those related to your career."

Severus turned his head sideways. He knew what she was insinuating and was unable to meet the redhead's hopeful look. "Some things are, unfortunately, inevitable."

Lily's hopeful expression fell and reflexively, her eyes went to his left arm, which was covered by the sleeves to his robes. Then, her shoulders set and a stubborn expression appeared on her face. "But things – people – _can_ change," she said. "Just because they're one way now doesn't mean they will be tomorrow. What looks to be a straight road can turn out to be filled with twists and turns." She smiled a little, placing a hand on his robe clad forearm, right where his Dark Mark was located, and Severus flinched. The mark always felt so cold, but now, heat seemed to fill it, travelling up his arm. "And aren't that kind of roads the best ones? The one that surprises you?"

Severus swallowed. Merlin, how he loved her. He wanted to tell her that he already _had _changed, that _she _had changed him, but he didn't. Instead, he grabbed face and kissed her. And for awhile, it was _glorious._ The rest of the world faded away, and all he could see, all he could breathe, was Lily. Her hair felt like silk between his fingers and her lips were so soft, just like he'd always imagined.

But then, realisation struck. In his imagination – and he had imagined moments like this _a lot _– Lily always kissed back. But reality was completely different. This Lily, he now noticed, was completely frozen, stiff between his hands, her lips still against his, not moving. His heart fell, and slowly, he let her go, pulling away.

Lily's red hair was mussed up and she wasn't meeting his eyes, and her right hand was clenching and unclenching, as though she was only barely restraining herself from punching him. And Severus knew then, what he'd always known deep inside, but hadn't wanted to accept – she wasn't his. She _never would be_ his. Across the room, Potter was glaring daggers at him. Severus should have felt satisfaction, but instead, he felt shame.

"Lily – " he croaked out, but Lily held up a hand, stopping his apology before it could leave his lips. Slowly, she raised her right hand, wiping her lips. There were tears in those lovely green eyes. Tears _he_ had caused. Severus wanted to die. For the first time, he felt like the villain. "Lily, I'm sorry." He got his apology out. He licked his lips. He could still taste her there.

"I hope it was everything you expected," Lily said, her voice dead, her body unmoving. She still wasn't meeting his eyes.

Severus shook his head. "No. I...I'm sorry," he apologised again. "A-are we still...friends?" Merlin, he felt pathetic. If she said no... if he'd lost her forever – whatever affection and respect she still harboured for him – with his stupid stunt...

It took a long time for Lily to answer. But then, she finally looked up, giving him a small, bitter smile. "Always," she said, and then she turned away, walking towards Potter.

'_But never more than that,'_ Severus thought, unable to stop the bitterness filling his mind and heart. "I'm surprised Potter didn't curse me for that." The parting remark left his lips before he could stop it, and it was so stupid, so _childish._ He wanted to sink through the floor.

Lily turned back around, but continued to walk backwards towards Potter – her husband. "Like I said," she said, her green eyes meeting his squarely, a barely noticeable smile on her lips, "people do change."

Severus wanted to smile back as he heard her final comment. He hadn't ruined things. She still believed in him, at least somewhat. The foolish notion that Lily might one day return his feelings was completely gone, obliterated, but it didn't matter. He had already been heartbroken by her before. That didn't stop him from loving her. He would still do anything for her. Always.

Lily had reached Potter now, and Severus was forced to watch as the man wrapped

– in Severus' opinion – a rather possessive arm around her, and they left, neither of them looking back.

* * *

"Well?" Voldemort's lips twisted in satisfaction as Nagini returned. The snake, however, looked rather cowed.

"Massster...I releassssssed the great one, but ssssshhhee failed..."

Voldemort froze. "What do you mean, Nagini?" He hissed out.

"Ssssshhhe killed ssssseveral mudbloodssss and injured many more...but sssshhhe wasssss killed by a blonde girl." The snake seemed to be in mourning.

Voldemort's jaw clenched. "I see." So the Basilisk had failed to kill Summers. And not only that, it had gotten itself killed in the process. Typical. At least Dumbledore should still face ire from the press from this. He supposed Summers was now Lucius' problem – after all, the man had mentioned more than once how much he wanted revenge on her for punching him in the nose one time. The aristocrat certainly could hold a grudge.

* * *

**27 September**

Two days later, Buffy was once again back at Hogwarts and the Great Hall, after being summoned there for a special ceremony, whatever that meant. The Great Hall had been cleaned up and transformed, the grand doors restored and the inside of it looking a lot like it had done during graduation.

As she waited on the raised stage for the ceremony to start – Buffy expected the Ministry would thank her in front of the press, to get good publicity – the Slayer mused over the headlines and articles which had decorated the _Daily Prophet _since the attack (_PANIC AT HOGWARTS! A BASILISK ATTACKS THE STUDENTS – DUMBLEDORE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND! A NEW HERO RISES! BUFFY SUMMERS IS THE SLAYER!_)_. _She wondered who

had let them know her identity as the Slayer slip – perhaps she should have stayed to meet the reporters in person after the Basilisk attack.

But she supposed it didn't matter who – she was aware that after killing a Basilisk in front of hundreds of witnesses, it was unavoidable that it got out. She felt slightly uncomfortable with all the positive press, but she would still rather have that than the vitriol thrown at Dumbledore in the various articles.

The _Daily Prophet,_ and, she supposed, the majority of the country, blamed the Headmaster for not keeping the school safe, putting their children at risk. Fourteen students and one professor had died. The press even speculated that since Dumbledore seemed to have trouble juggling all his positions (arguing that a Wizengamot session at the Ministry had kept him from the school in a time of need), perhaps he should resign from at least one of them, in order to focus better on the others.

Buffy supposed the press did have a point in that, but also thought that with the war still going on, now wasn't the right time for the upheaval such an action would cause. She thought it was definitely something Dumbledore should consider for the future, however.

Sighing, she glanced at her clock, wondering how much longer she had to stand here. On the floor, there were rows upon rows of chairs were Hogwarts' students and professor sat. There were also a lot of people from the media and the Ministry present, dressed up to the nines in Wizarding dress robes – compared to them, Buffy felt rather underdressed, in her muggle jeans and tank top. She saw more than a few of them give her clothing disapproving looks. But she couldn't bring herself to care – she was here because Dumbledore told her to, without any order to dress up, not to put on some sort of display for these people. If they disliked what she was wearing, bully for them.

In the first row sat the remains of the Order, all of them looking rather confused, and in Caradoc's case, annoyed. Apparently, they hadn't been told of the reason either. Remus was throwing her encouraging looks, Sirius was making faces to get her to laugh, Peter was fidgeting and neither James nor Lily was present. Nor were the Longbottoms. Knowing about the prophecy and the danger they were in, Buffy felt not in the least insulted.

Finally, the doors to the Great Hall entered, and Dumbledore and the Minister – Baggold, Buffy thought her name was – stepped inside, to the sound of...trumpets? Buffy frowned in confusion. Both the Minister and the Headmaster were each carrying a small box.

They climbed up to the stage. "Buffy Anne Summers," Dumbledore was beaming at her. "As an acknowledgement of your bravery and your skill in slaying the Basilisk threatening the students and staff within Hogwarts' halls, I am honoured to present you this award for special services to the school." He opened the box, revealing a medium sized shield in gold. Buffy blinked while the people who hadn't known what they were doing here gasped.

"Go Buffy!" Sirius hollered, wolf-whistling.

"Normally, this award is only given to those who are also _current_ students, but I have discussed it with both my staff and the Board of Governors, and we agree that an exception deserves to be made in your case. Now, this award will not be given to you – instead, it will be put on display inside the trophy-room here at Hogwarts, where everyone who lives inside, or visit the castle may see it and know of your accomplishment."

Buffy smiled rather shakily. So if that was what Dumbledore had been carrying...what the hell was in the Minister's box? "Well, gee, Dumbledore. That's...thank you."

Dumbledore beamed at her and then stepped back as the Minister stepped forwards.

"Buffy Summers," the Minister said. "The Ministry also wishes to thank you. Your actions in slaying the Basilisk not only saved the lives of our next generation, but also led to an unforeseen discovery. It has been confirmed that the Basilisk _was _the rumoured monster resting in the legendary Chamber of Secrets, of which the entrance has been found, located on the second floor." Her lips twitched into a smile as she saw Buffy's stunned look, a look mirrored by most of the Great Hall who seemed to be in a state of disbelief. "We were unfortunately not able to get into the Chamber itself, and until we figure out a way to explore it, the room in question has been sealed off for the students' safety. It is only appropriate that what was thought of as a myth – Slytherin's monster - was taken down by someone else we thought of as a myth – the Slayer."

"Well," Buffy stammered. "That's...amazing." The truth was, she had no idea what the Chamber of Secrets was, or why it was so important. But she couldn't exactly say that in front of all these people.

"Indeed," the Minister said. "And so, on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, and all of Wizarding Britain, I give you this." She opened the box, holding up a golden medal that glittered in the light. "The Order of Merlin, First Class." Buffy drew in a sharp breath, and so did the rest of the Great Hall. This, she did know what it was. It was the greatest honour a witch or wizard could receive. And it wasn't a Third, or even Second, Class, but First!

The Minister put the medal around Buffy's neck, and as one, everyone within the Great Hall stood up and applauded. As cameras from the reporters present snapped away, Buffy wished she _had_ dressed up. She had to be the sloppiest-looking Order of Merlin recipient, _ever._ But, as she saw the blinding smiles on the faces of her friends, and felt the joy and pride from the bond she shared with Remus, she realised it didn't matter.

Dumbledore was holding up a hand for the Great Hall to fall silent. It took at least a minute. "We have one more thing to give Ms. Summers. And it is not so much an _a_ward as it is a _re_ward. The Basilisk was very old, and as such very valuable. Half the profits from salvaging and selling the Basilisk's skin and other parts will go to Hogwarts, as it was killed on school grounds. A part of that half will also go to the families of the Basilisk's victims. The other half, as the slayer of the Basilisk, goes to you."

And then he mentioned a sum that nearly made Buffy faint, and from the feeling she got from their bond, Remus wasn't far from it either. Almost numbly, she accepted the golden vault key Dumbledore handed her that led to her new vault at Gringotts where her 'bounty' had already been deposited – she supposed her previous bank box didn't have anywhere near enough space - and a choking noise escaped her mouth.

Money had always been a concern in hers and Remus relationship, but now, it never would be, especially since they both had jobs. Even if they _hadn't _had jobs, the proceeds she had just been given would be enough to support them both for years. The numbness and shock slowly dissipated as Buffy realised she could _finally _splurge on a real, long shopping trip out of pure _want_ rather than need. _'If I'd known this, I would have tracked a Basilisk down and killed one ages ago. I wonder what you get for a Nundu.'_

* * *

**28 September**

"That's...more gold than I've ever seen," Remus said faintly, staring up at the stacks of Galleons and piles of Sickles and Knuts inside Buffy's new vault.

"Uhu..." Buffy agreed. "Pinch me, Remus, because I think I'm dreaming." Remus obliged. "I guess I_ am_ awake." She wanted to let out a childish squeal, but since she had a feeling the rather sour looking Goblin waiting in the cart would not appreciate it, she managed to restrain herself. Barely.

Remus swallowed. "Let's be responsible about this," he said. Buffy nodded, only half-listening: the rest of her was already lost in fantasy land. It was filled with shoes. "Let's not be careless." Buffy nodded again. Bags, she thought. "Just because we have money doesn't mean we should waste it on things we don't really need." Once again, Buffy nodded. Weapons. "We shouldn't splurge." Finally, Buffy's head snapped up, her eyes narrowed at Remus. "Too much," the werewolf hastily amended, recognising danger when he saw it.

Buffy smiled in satisfaction. "Of course not," she promised. "Just the necessities." She began to count of her fingers. "A new sofa, for one. Weapons, for me, books for you... And you could use a whole new wardrobe. And I need to add to mine. I need more shoes, especially. Lots of them. Stylish! And bags."

Remus stared. "...Did you say books?" He finally asked. It wasn't like indulging in their shallow desires just this _one time_ would hurt. Books!

Buffy nodded. "We'll get you a whole bookcase full."

Remus sighed in bliss. "Brilliant."

* * *

**************__****Published: **_12__/09 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- Why Peter doesn't just hand over Harry to Voldemort when he's alone with him: Peter is unaware of the prophecy, and believes it is Lily and James Voldemort wants, not Harry. Besides, if he did that right after Sirius, Buffy, Remus and the Potters deliberately left Harry with him, he would have immediately been accused of foul play if Harry had 'disappeared' under his watch.

- The Basilisk is known as the king (male term) of all serpents, but the Basilisk in Hogwarts is female (she's missing the plume on her head which would indicate a male).

- The Chamber of Secrets legend is, of course, taken straight from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. As for whether the Basiliks' death here will affect certain canon events during Harry's second year...well, needless to say it will!

- Sirius and James about Snape: I do not mean for Sirius to come across like an arse, but for all intents and purposes, he had to be. Even after twelve years in Azkaban in canon, the animosity between Sirius and Severus is still there, and from his comments in HP-canon, it is made clear Sirius' has never quite grown up when it comes to him. James, on the other hand, I had to make more mature, to show that he has changed for the better – or else Lily wouldn't be with him. That doesn't mean he doesn't have issues, seeing Lily with Snape, but he's now man enough to not go off on a childish rampage of jealousy.

- Amanda Lorne mentions the Gryffindor Quidditch team has not won the cup since James left - and they won't win the cup until Charlie Weasley (in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, it is mentioned Gryffindor "hasn't won the cup since Charlie left") joins the team.

- Baggold = Minister Bagnold

- The award for special services to the school is a golden shield. It was awarded to Tom Riddle for exposing Hagrid as the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets and released the monster, and later awarded to Harry and Ron after they rediscovered the Chamber and defeated the basilisk. For that reason, I decided Buffy should be given the same award. As Ron spots Tom Riddle's award in the trophy room, I also concluded it is an award ment for public display within the school, not one you get to take with you.

- The Order of Merlin is a great honour, originally bestowed on wizards who have demonstrated their devotion to the principles of living harmoniously with Muggles, though that purpose has obviously been lost over the years and instead is simply awarded to those who have done great deeds/discoveries.

- Buffy opened a bank box for her savings at Gringotts in Road of Innocence chapter 3.

- A nundu (a gigantic leopard) is considered to be among, if not _the,_ most dangerous beast in existence whose breath carries disease and death. Whole villages have been wiped out by the nundu, and no nundu has ever been subdued by fewer than a hundred wizards working together.


	25. Fidelius

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**2 October**

"Ah, Lily, James, thank you for coming."

Lily and James nodded and sat down in the chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk, while smiling at Alice and Frank, who were also there, in greeting.

Neville, who had his thumb in his mouth, gave Harry a curious look, and the green-eyed toddler grinned toothily at him. After awhile, Neville grinned back, his smile slightly more hesitant.

"Aww, they're best friends already!" James beamed as Frank laughed.

Dumbledore gave the children an indulgent look. "So it seems. Now, I'm sure you've already realised why I've asked you to come."

Alice smiled somewhat bitterly. "There's really only one reason. The prophecy."

"Indeed," Dumbledore nodded. "Lily, do you remember when I told you I would look into alternate precautions to keep your son safe?"

Lily frowned. "Yes."

"To make a long story short, I believe I've found it. It is called the _Fidelius _charm. Have any of you ever heard of it?"

Alice, Frank and James all shook their heads but Lily looked thoughtful. "The name sounds vaguely familiar, but that's it," she said.

"Then I will explain. The Fidelius charm, its name _Fidelius _derived from the latin word _Fidelis _– "

"Trusty or faithful," Lily translated, and Dumbledore nodded.

"Exactly right. The Fidelius is an immensely complex spell involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information you want to keep a secret is essentially hidden inside a chosen person, called a Secret-Keeper. The secret – in this case, the location of your respective homes - is henceforth impossible to find: except for those people to whom the Secret-Keeper divulges the information."

"We would only ever be able to be seen by the people the Secret-Keeper has told?" Frank frowned. "We would be invisible even when in public?"

"Oh, you misunderstand me," Dumbledore assured him. "The charm doesn't allow for the secret to be a living being. It is not _you, _yourselves, who would be the secret, but your _house._ The house – and everyone and everything inside it – will be hidden. Voldemort can search high and low and never find your house, even if he stood right next to it, but you can still leave whenever you want, and then you would, of course, be seen."

"It sounds perfect," Alice said. "A little too perfect. What is the catch?"

"The charm _can_ be circumvented, but not easily," Dumbledore admitted. "It comes down to making educated guesses. For example, if you lived at - what is your sister's address, Lily?"

"Number 4, Privet Drive," Lily answered, her eyebrow raised.

"Number 4, Privet Drive," Dumbledore nodded. "Let's say we put number 4, Privet Drive under the Fidelius charm. The house would essentially disappear, but its neighbouring houses, number 2 and 6, would still be there. Now, what do you think would happen if someone walked down the street of Privet Drive, and sees there is no house between number 2 and number 6? He wouldn't be able to see the house, but he would realise, if he is familiar with European street numbering and all other houses are correctly numbered, that logically, another house _should_ be there, even if the charm would keep him from connecting the missing house to the specific house number 4. If he is familiar with the Fidelius charm, he might guess it is at play, and _guess _a house is hidden there, even if he would never be able to _find_ or _enter _it, due to the charm."

"Voldemort could still find the area, but not find us," James nodded. "So he could keep watch over the place he _thinks_ the house could be at, but he wouldn't be able to see us unless we leave, as long as the Secret-Keeper doesn't say anything."

"Exactly." Dumbledore beamed. "But this sort of deduction is only possible if your house is located in a place where it would be easy to draw logical conclusions from what's missing and not missing for example, an ordinary muggle street. If it stood in the middle of nowhere it would be near impossible."

"And we don't live on an ordinary street, and neither do you," Frank said, looking at James and Lily. "I say we go for it." Alice nodded in agreement.

"There is another catch," Dumbledore admitted reluctantly. "The Secret-Keeper. Who do you trust that sort of information to? Once the spell has been cast, he or she will be the _only _one who can tell anyone where you live: not even you would be able to divulge it, even if you were force-fed Veritaserum or placed under the Imperius curse. Safe, of course, but you would essentially be letting this person decide who is allowed to visit. And there is of course the danger to the person you choose to consider."

"What happens if the Secret-Keeper dies?" James asked grimly and both Frank and Alice looked alarmed, as this was something they hadn't considered.

"The secret dies with them, or rather; the status of the secret will remain as it is at the moment of their death. Everybody whom he or she confided the secret to will still know the hidden information and become a Secret-Keeper themselves. This of course dilutes the secret as more people would be able to divulge it in turn," Dumbledore explained, leaning back in his chair. "What do you think?"

"Would the Secret-Keeper be forced to divulge the secret if he or she is put under the Imperius or fed Veritaserum?" Lily wondered.

"No," Dumbledore said. "No magical means such as potions or spells that put you under someone's control can extract the secret. But it doesn't exclude the Secret-Keeper from divulging the secret after being put through torture, muggle or magical, since that would be voluntary. Everyone breaks, eventually." James paled. "Like I said, this puts a great risk on whomever you chose," Dumbledore said, giving both couples a serious look.

"And there is yet another thing to consider: the charm_ can_ be broken, in two ways that I know of," Dumbledore cautioned. "First, the spell-caster is also a security-risk: if the spell caster dies, the charm breaks and the secret is revealed to _everyone."_

"What you're saying is the spell-caster is a bigger security risk than the Secret-Keeper," Alice deduced.

"One would think so, but no, not really. If you choose the spell-caster to also be one of the people who the charm is meant to protect, say, you yourself Alice, you would be safe there. The Secret-Keeper on the other hand, cannot live within the confines of his own secret. He can visit for a short amount of time, but not live there."

"Damn," James cursed, having planned to make himself the Secret-Keeper when he learned how dangerous it was.

"James!" Lily gasped, covering Harry's ears. James threw her an apologetic look.

Dumbledore smiled ruefully, having realised his intentions. "If only it were that easy. But alas, the element of trust in someone _not _yourself is what the entire charm is built upon."

"Alright. What else?" Frank asked. "You said there were two things to consider. What's the second?" Frank asked.

"The second is only a possible risk, and it depends on the wording of the secret. For example: _The Potter family is hiding at number 4, Privet Drive."_

"Do we have to keep using my sister's house as an example?" Lily muttered.

Dumbledore ignored her. "Now, what do you think would happen if both Lily and James were killed?"

"You said it had to do with the wording..." Lily bit her lip. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "We wouldn't be a family anymore." She said quietly, holding Harry a little closer.

"Correct. Since the secret isn't _Harry Potter is hiding at number 4, Privet Drive_, but rather _the Potter family,_ the charm would break as the secret would no longer be applicable. There would be no Potter family anymore: Harry would be an orphan, and so, the charm would once again, break. This too, is a very small risk, since you would all live protected under the charm, but I still thought you should be aware of it."

"Does Voldemort know about the Fidelius charm? That it exists, I mean?" Frank asked.

"Oh, he is very well aware of it," Dumbledore said. "So he will certainly consider you might be hiding under it. In fact, one of the first pieces of information Dorcas gave me was that Voldemort uses it to hide his Headquarters."

"And suddenly the Fidelius sounds a lot less appealing," Alice grimaced.

"But it also means it's working," James pointed out. "No one has even come close to finding it." Suddenly, he paused, a frown on his face. "Wait. You said the charm is built on trust, right? Who in Merlin's name does _Voldemort _trust enough to give that secret to?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Nobody. He is his own Secret-Keeper."

"But you said that wasn't possible!" Lily protested.

"And it isn't. But I have considered this for a long time, and it all comes down to one thing: the soul. We all know Voldemort frequently uses various rituals to enhance his own powers –"

" – At the expanse of his looks," James muttered.

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "To gain something you have to lose something. But I don't believe his looks are the sacrifice he has had to make. Appearance, when it all comes down to it, isn't something very important, and especially not in the eyes of magic. The soul, on the other hand... Rather, I believe the sacrifice he has had to make is pieces of his _humanity, _and the loss of appearance is just a side-effect of that such, I am not sure, that when the Fidelius was cast with Voldemort as the Secret-Keeper, it registered him in the same way it would you or I. He is simply not _human_ enough anymore for the magic within the charm to recognise that it should not be possible for him to live within his own secret."

"That makes as much sense as anything else, I suppose," Lily agreed reluctantly.

"Of course, I could be wrong," Dumbledore said mildly. "Dorcas was only given a note with the location written on it. The real Secret-Keeper could have faked Voldemort's handwriting to throw us off and keep us from searching for the actual Secret-Keeper."

"Also possible," James acknowledged.

Alice and Frank exchanged looks again. "I think we will use the charm," Frank finally said and Alice nodded in agreement.

"We have to talk to Augusta about it, though – she would have to move out of Longbottom manor," Alice said.

Frank groaned at the thought of _that _conversation. It should be fun.

Dumbledore frowned again. "You are going to use Augusta as Secret-Keeper?"

"Yes," Frank said firmly. "Once we tell her about this charm, she wouldn't have it any other way. Even with the torture element involved, she wouldn't trust anyone else. Not even you, Albus, and even though you are powerful, the likelihood of someone trying to kill you is a lot higher than someone trying to kill my mother, especially if we let no one know she is the Secret-Keeper."

"I hate to rain on your parade, but _no one_ would believe Augusta would ever leave Longbottom manor willingly." James snorted. "It would be highly suspicious."

Alice's shoulders slumped. "So we would have to move out then."

"It does make more sense," Lily said gently. "Especially as no one would have to know you don't live there anymore, since you would be hidden."

Frank nodded. "Alright. It's probably better this way, anyway. Even without the Fidelius, Longbottom manor is still among the safest places she could stay at."

Dumbledore nodded. "And you and James, Lily?"

James and Lily exchanged looks. "We'll think about it," James finally said, but he thought they probably would agree. He still worried that the wards on Godric's Hollow weren't enough: the house was out in the open and protections could be broken through, while the Fidelius would hide them entirely.

* * *

**13 October**

Buffy sat curled up on hers and Remus' bed, Moony's furry head resting in her lap as she stroked his ears, lost in thought. Every now and then, the werewolf would let out noises of contentment. For once, she wasn't talking to him, like she often found herself doing, even if Moony couldn't verbally answer back. Instead, she was enjoying the silence and the quiet time. She had had far too little rest lately.

"Buffy?"

Moony lifted his head, growling, his entire body trembling. Buffy's eyes widened and she wondered who the hell would be stupid enough to come here during a full moon.

"Buffy? Are you there?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, placing a calming hand on Moony's back. Sirius. Of course. At least he could transform if Moony decided to attack. She glanced down at the werewolf. Remus had been making some progress in accepting himself. Perhaps it was time for a little test... "I'm in here!" she sing-songed, keeping Moony in a firm grip. The werewolf was snarling, but he wasn't trying to get away from her.

The bedroom door opened and Sirius' eyes widened when he saw Moony. The werewolf gave him a long, assessing look, growing threateningly not to come any closer. "Uh...Buffy..."

Buffy let an eyebrow rise. "What? This is _our_ home and you knew it was a full moon, didn't you?"

"Of course," Sirius said slowly. "I just figured you'd have him in a _cage _or something." Moony snarled loudly, his body jerking forward towards Sirius, his jaw snapping close around nothing in a threatening motion. Sirius noticeably flinched. "No offense," the marauder squeaked out.

"Why would I have him in a cage when I'm the last person he would ever hurt?" Buffy asked logically. "Besides, he doesn't like being caged. Do you Moony?" She cooed at the werewolf who hadn't taken his eyes off of Sirius since he stepped into the room, unable to recognise that he was Padfoot, and therefore, also pack.

"Yeah, I sort of figured that out," Sirius said shakily. "Should I transform?"

"If you do, you won't be able to talk to me," Buffy said, amused. "I assume you wanted something?"

"Oh, right! Umm...Dumbledore got a tip off that there might be another attack on an Order member tonight, courtesy of Greyback. We figure that with it being a full moon, it won't be here, but we're going to station Aurors and Order members at Caradoc's, Emmeline's and Sturgis houses. People from the werewolf capture unit will be there too, to try and catch the bastard. It's actually they who thought you could be helpful – I think they want to recruit you."

Buffy grimaced. "Well, they're out of luck," she said. She supposed those sort of requests were one downside to everyone now knowing who she was. She had no intention of leaving her job at St. Mungo's, and even if she did, she would never join the WCU, or any other organisation like it.

"What about Diggle's or Doge's?" Buffy asked, thinking about the Order's two oldest members other than Dumbledore. Aberforth was presumably in a public place, the Hog's Head, where he worked and lived, so it was unlikely Greyback would attack there. The Longbottoms were safe in the manor, and Lily and James were also safe. No one knew were Dung holed up when there wasn't a meeting and Moody would probably be with the Auror contingent. Besides, not even Greyback would be crazy enough to try and attack him.

"Greyback prefers to attack younger people, so we think they'll be safe. Besides, we figure Voldemort will want to go after the biggest threats first. That's what he's done so far: Edgar, Marlene and Benjy were all part of our more powerful members."

Buffy nodded and stood up. It seemed her quiet time for peace and reflection was over before it had even begun. Moony let out a long whine. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. You don't want Greyback to hurt anyone, do you?" Moony growled angrily, snorting. "I know you want to protect me from him, but I'll be fine." Moony let out another whine. "I promise. I'll be back before you know it."

"Can he_ understand _you?" Sirius was astonished.

"Well, I don't think he knows exactly _what _I'm saying, but I'm pretty sure he understands the general sentiment _behind_ whatever I'm saying." Buffy said, as she opened the chest at the end of her bed and pulled out a sword.

Moony noticeably growled at it. "Oh, it's not for you," Buffy patted one of his paws with a laugh. "I think once is enough, don't you? No, this is for Greyback. Be good now," she said and quickly left the room with Sirius, trying to ignore Moony's howls.

"Will he be alright in there?"

Buffy put several warding and locking spells on the door. "He won't get out so he can't hurt anyone else, if that's what you mean." She bit her lip. "But no, I don't think so. When I'm not there, and no one else in his pack is there, and there's no one around that he can hurt, he hurts himself. You know that."

"Yeah," Sirius said sadly, almost regretting that he had come to get her. But if there was anyone who could take down Greyback, it would be Buffy. Most of the Aurors would probably freeze up and he hated the methods employed by the Ministry's werewolf captive unit, and he was sure Buffy felt the same: James and Lily certainly did.

"So where am I going?" Buffy asked. "Emmeline or Sturgis' place?"

"We're putting you at Emmeline's house – we think she's a likelier target than Sturgis. And the majority of the capture unit will be at Caradoc's."

"Alright."

Sirius glanced at her. "Are you sure you're alright with this? I mean, they're werewolves...it means they're human."

Buffy gripped her sword tighter. "If they're part of Greyback's attack pack, they've let whatever humanity they had disappear long ago. I'm perfectly alright with this. Greyback is the one who bit Remus and killed his dad. Just let them bring it." Her skin crawled as the memory of a chain of prophetic dreams she'd had over two years ago flashed past her mind's eye. In it, Remus and Greyback had been fighting, both of them older than they were now. If that was to come true, Greyback would get away tonight... But Buffy had Slayer visions for several reasons – they weren't always inevitable. Sometimes, they were warnings. Sometimes, they were to prevent the visions from becoming reality. "We'll see who wins," she whispered, apparating away with a 'pop.'

* * *

**14 October**

Hours after she'd left to deal with the potential attack from Greyback, Buffy entered hers and Remus house tiredly, throwing down her sword – now bloodied – at the sofa carelessly, worried how Remus – or rather, Moony - was doing. How had he handled being alone? She almost dreaded what she would find – what if he'd hurt himself beyond repair?

She frowned a bit to herself as she realised she too thought of the wolf and man as two separate beings. Was she unconsciously adding to Remus' inability to accept himself? She resolved to think of both the wolf and human as Remus from now on. But she'd still call Remus _Moony _when he was transformed – it would feel slightly weird otherwise.

Entering their bedroom, she was immediately met by Moony – Remus! – who licked her face. "I'm fine, Moony," she said. The wolf let out a whine. "The blood isn't mine." She frowned, carefully examining the werewolf's body for injuries. Then she gave him an astonished look. "You haven't hurt yourself," she whispered, sinking down to sit on the bed.

Moony's tongue lolled out and he almost seemed to laugh at her as he climbed up beside her, putting his head in her lap again. Glancing out the window, she realised the sunrise was starting, and sure enough, less than a minute later, Remus began to transform back, until he was lying, naked and trembling, on the bed, his now very human head resting in her lap.

Buffy gave him a tearful smile. "Hi, you."

"Hi yourself," Remus said hoarsely.

"How are you feeling?" Buffy wondered.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Remus countered. "What happened? Did you get Greyback?"

Buffy stared at him. "You remember that's why I left? You remember what Sirius said?"

Remus frowned. "Not exactly. I think...there's...flashes. I know _someone_ visited, someone that felt slightly familiar, but I didn't know it was Sirius until you told me. I do remember you leaving, and I do remember being upset about that. I remember you bringing out the sword – " his lips twisted and Buffy snorted. Considering Moony's only experience of Buffy with a sword was being injured by it, that was understandable.

"You would."

"And I do remember Greyback's name was mentioned, so I assume he's the reason you left. Greyback is the one who infected me, and that carries a certain...weight, to Moony as well. We both dislike him. And I did stay with Greyback for awhile, and he was my Alpha then. Even when I'm...not myself, I know who he is – what he means."

"But don't you understand?" Buffy asked, desperate to make him see. "You_ were _yourself, Remus, at least to a point! You've never remember things before! When Sirius came in, you didn't attack him, and he didn't have to change into his Animagus form, not even when he inadvertently insulted you!"

Remus frowned, not remembering that. "He did?"

"And you didn't hurt yourself at all!" Buffy continued, ignoring his question. "And you always do, to some extent, if you're left alone." There were tears of joy in her eyes. "It's happening, Remus. Oz's methods are working. You're accepting yourself, whether you believe it or not – you're controlling the wolf!"

Remus winced. "Moony doesn't like the word_ control._ It sounds like another way to keep him caged." Buffy's eyes grew round even as Remus looked surprised at his own statement. "I don't know how I knew that."

"I do," Buffy beamed at him. "You're...communicating with your inner wolf! You're opening up to him, listening to his needs and wants and not just your own! Remus, this is great!"

Remus smiled weakly. "Is it? I can't deny it's nice not to have to fear the change so much anymore – there's been a lot less pain for awhile now, and that I can keep myself somewhat aware when I am a werewolf is a blessing. But I'm scared of letting it go any further than this, Buffy."

"But why?" Buffy asked. "You said it yourself. There's less pain, and – "

" – What if I end up like Greyback?" Remus blurted out. Buffy stared at him. "What if accepting the wolf means I will turn into someone like him? Half-wolf all the time. He, if anybody, has accepted what he is, and if that's what this will eventually lead to, I'd rather take the pain."

Buffy gawked at him. "Remus, no. That's not – that _can't_ be what it means, okay? Oz wouldn't do it, if that was the case. Greyback's..." Buffy sighed. "Greyback hasn't accepted what he is, Remus, not at all. He's allowed the werewolf – the feral side of it - to take over completely. What you're trying to do is completely different. You're trying to find a balance in yourself that leaves both your human side and your wolf side content."

"Are you sure?" Remus asked.

"I'm sure," Buffy said.

Remus sighed. "Alright then. I trust you."

"No, Re." Buffy smiled at him. "Trust yourself."

Remus smiled. "I'll try. Now, what happened with Greyback? Did you get him?"

Buffy grimaced. "I wish. I was at Emmeline's home along with a couple of people from the Order, the rest of the Order and several Aurors were at Sturgis', and Caradoc got to entertain people from the werewolf capture unit."

"I wonder who suffered the most from _that_ arrangement," Remus snorted. "Caradoc or the WCU."

Buffy laughed. "Anyway, nothing happened over at Sturgis' house, but three werewolves came to Emmeline's. I eh...took care of them."

"You can say you killed them, you know," Remus said, amused.

"Fine. We killed them and they turned back to themselves. None of them were Greyback, and Emmeline was fine – she wasn't bitten, or even hurt - so we apparated to Caradoc's."

"And?"

"And," Buffy sighed, "Greyback's pack had already been there and left. Several people from the WCU were dead, though Caradoc was unhurt, luckily enough. Two werewolves were killed, but most escaped, including Greyback."

"Typical."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed. "I'll get him next time," she swore.

* * *

**22 October**

"Have you decided what we should do yet?" Lily asked James after she'd put Harry down for his nap, the toddler having exhausted himself flying – again. "About the Fidelius?"

James shook his head. "I thought we needed to discuss that together first," he said. "What do you think?"

Lily sighed. "Well, I've done some of my own research on it since we were told, and all Dumbledore said seems to be true. I think it's a good option. I mean, there are risks, but if you or I are the spellcaster, that risk should be minimised. And I don't think Voldemort will be able to narrow down our location to Godric's Hollow either, once the spell is cast. My research tells me that once the Fidelius charm goes into effect, everyone will simply forget about the item in question. So our neighbours wouldn't even remember our house, let alone that anyone ever lived there. And the house isn't numbered. And I don't think the wording will be an issue either, even if we use 'The Potter family is hiding at' – if one of us is killed, it is likely the other would be too. And Harry." Lily looked grim. "So it wouldn't matter."

"I've come to the same conclusions," James sighed. "That leaves one problem that I can see – the Secret-Keeper. I've been thinking. I know I wouldn't be able to live with you or Harry, but I still think I should be the Secret-Keeper."

Lily stared at him. "You can't be serious."

"I am," James nodded. "If I'm caught, I know I wouldn't break under torture – not if it's yours and Harry's lives at risk. I'm not sure I trust anyone else that far. I'll go back to live at Potter manor – "

"No," Lily shook her head. "I won't let you. And not just because it's dangerous. I can't do this without you, James. I need you with me. _Harry _needs you with us."

"Lily, I hate the thought of living apart from you just as much as you do, but I can visit," James begged.

"Not as often as I would want, or you might lead Voldemort to us, and you _know _that." Lily's eyes narrowed at James, knowing him too well by now to not be able to read his intentions: James would stay away from them forever if he thought it increased their chances of survival. "It's not an option, James. You will not be the Secret-Keeper."

"Then who will?" James asked. "Dumbledore? I don't want him to be in charge of our lives like that. And I don't want to put any of our friends in danger."

"They're _already_ in danger, James," Lily argued. "We all are. And it's not like we'll go spreading around that we now live under the Fidelius, and definitely not who the Secret-Keeper is!"

James closed his eyes. "Could we not ask Toby or Saffy?" He finally asked. "I hate the thought of putting that kind of burden – that kind of order – on one of our house-elves, but – "

Lily was shaking her head. "The Secret-Keeper can't be under any kind of slave bond, because he or she must become the Secret-Keeper by choice. And Remus is excluded, because – "

" – Because he's a werewolf."

"Yes and no," Lily sighed. "He could be made Secret-Keeper, but the moment the full moon came and he turned into a werewolf, the Fidelius would essentially register him as _dead_ since his mind would be locked away while the werewolf takes over. It wouldn't matter that he turns back within a few hours. The charm would already be broken."

"I guess that leaves Sirius, Peter and Buffy," James muttered.

"Not Buffy," Lily said, shaking her head decisively. "She's pregnant. I don't want to put this on her."

James blinked at her. "She's _what?"_

Lily grinned. "I don't think even she knows yet. But I've been pregnant – I know what to look for."

"But she's a Healer!" James protested. "How can she not know?"

Lily shrugged. "Healers can be incredibly oblivious when it comes to their own bodies. That, or overly paranoid. Besides, I don't think she's very far along at all. If I were to venture a guess, I think the conception date might have been the night of the Basilisk attack, or soon after."

"Then how can _you _possibly tell?"

"I just do," Lily said airily. James threw her a sceptical look. Lily looked slightly guilty. "Alright, she came over a couple of days ago after I offered to teach her a couple of recipes even she couldn't possibly screw up. After dinner, she threw up, and was completely convinced it was the food's fault and that she was and remained a hopeless cause when it comes to cooking. Since I felt fine, I got suspicious, so I may or may not have shot of a diagnostic charm when she wasn't looking." She blushed but looked completely unrepentant.

James stared at her with admiration. "You little _sneaky..."_ He frowned. "Wait. Didn't you tell her?"

"Of course I didn't tell her!" Lily exclaimed. "That's the sort of thing you should figure out on your own! I already feel guilty enough for testing her for pregnancy in the first place – it really wasn't any of my business and I curse my curiosity! Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep my mouth shut once I knew?" James sniggered. "And you better not even give so much as a hint to anyone!" Lily threatened. "Or you'll sleep on the couch."

"I'll be good," James promised. "Alright." He sighed, pulling his fingers through his hair. "If we go back to talking about the Fidelius for a minute...can't Frank or Alice be our Secret-Keeper and one of us theirs? With all of us under a Fidelius charm each, that would be as safe as we could possibly get."

"_'The people involved as a secret, Secret-Keeper or spell-caster of a Fidelius charm cannot be the secret, Secret-Keeper or spell-caster of another,'_" Lily quoted from one of her sources.

James shoulders slumped. "I guess that leaves Sirius. I hate the thought of him in danger."

"Not Peter?" Lily asked.

James shook his head. "As much as I trust him, I don't think he'd hold up at all under torture, if it came to that. But I guess we should still give him the option. He'll probably point that out himself."

* * *

Sirius stared at James. "You want one of us to be what?"

Peter stared too.

"Our Secret-Keeper," James repeated patiently. He and Lily, Sirius and Peter were all gathered in Sirius' apartment and he had just explained the Fidelius charm for them.

"Why not Buffy?" Sirius asked. "Or Dumbledore?"

"The charm won't allow us to use Buffy," James lied, remember his promise not to say anything about her pregnancy, "or Remus for that matter, and we don't want to use Dumbledore."

"B-but why even _consider_ me?" Peter twisted his hands.

"You're plenty brave, Peter," James told him. "And you're our friend." Peter smiled weakly.

"We're not forcing either of you to do this," Lily said softly. "It's your choice. We know how dangerous it will be."

Sirius pursed his lips and glanced at Harry who was playing with Lily's long red hair from where he sat in her lap. "I'll do it," he finally said. "Like you said, it's going to be dangerous. And as much as I trust you, Wormtail, if you're found out and get tortured, I don't think you'll hold up very well."

Peter shook his head in agreement. "I really wouldn't." He smiled weakly. "You're easily the best choice – you're James' best friend. It's rather obvious, isn't it?"

Sirius frowned. "I guess you're right..."

"Excellent!" James said, giving Sirius a tight hug. "Padfoot, Lily and I will never be able to thank you enough for this. We'll rely on you more than ever, you know."

Lily gave him a kiss on the cheek. "We'll do the charm two days from now," she said. "Thank you, Sirius."

Sirius only nodded slowly as James and Lily left, Harry grinning toothily and waving goodbye to "Pa'foo!"

"W-wow, Sirius," Peter swallowed. "I can hardly believe things have gotten so bad for James and Lily that they have to hide under a Fidelius charm." He shook his head. "It's so lucky they have you. I mean - "

"What did you mean before when you said it was obvious?" Sirius interrupted him.

Peter frowned. "N-nothing."

"No, it wasn't nothing. _What did you mean when you said it was obvious?"_ Sirius asked again.

Peter sighed. "I didn't mean anything bad! You and James have been best friends forever. Of course you'll be his Secret-Keeper – you're the most obvious choice. It's not strange at all - James trusts you more than anyone."

Sirius paled. "Oh Merlin, Wormtail, you're right."

"Of course I'm right." Peter frowned. "Why would I be wrong about you and James being best friends?"

"You misunderstand me," Sirius said, sounding distressed. "I mean you were right when you said I'm the most obvious choice." He began to pace. "Voldemort will figure it out in no time. It's so predictable it's frightening." He abruptly stopped pacing and turned to Peter a wild look in his eyes. "I can't do it."

"What do you mean?" Peter yelped. "If you can't, who will? You heard them – they don't want Dumbledore and Remus and Buffy can't."

"You will," Sirius sounded completely calm.

Peter's eyes were round. "You're insane," he whispered. "I'm the weakest link - I won't hold up under torture, remember?"

"You won't need to." Sirius let out a slight laugh. "Don't you get it? We'll cast the charm with you as the Secret-Keeper, but we'll let everyone know it's me! No one will ever suspect you! Like you said, everyone – including yourself – believes you're the weakest among our friends. And if Voldemort catches me, I won't tell him where Lily and James are, because I literally wouldn't be able to! It's the perfect ploy!"

Peter frowned. "I don't know. Don't you think it's a little convoluted?"

"That's why it's so perfect," Sirius said. "You won't have to worry, Peter – you'll be completely safe. I'll still be the one in danger."

Peter smiled weakly, inwardly triumphant – but also frightened, as he realised what his words had just led to. He wasn't even sure if it _had_ been his aim to trick Sirius or not, to become the Secret-Keeper instead, but he had. Once the charm was cast, he would _have_ to betray his friends. Of course, he knew the Dark Lord would reward him above all others. And yet, a small nagging feeling wondered if it would really be worth it.

If he hadn't been made the Secret-Keeper, it wouldn't be his fault if the Dark Lord never found out Lily and James' location – he would have told him Sirius was the Secret-Keeper and then it wouldn't be his fault if they were found – it would be Sirius', when he eventually broke. Peter could have had a way out, if he'd only kept silent.

Why hadn't he kept silent?

* * *

**23 October**

"I am happy to hear you've decided to use the charm," Dumbledore said, taking a sip from the cup of tea Lily had made him. The Headmaster had come over to Godric's Hollow to hear their decision. "And I am also willing to be your Secret-Keeper. It might be the safest thing for you."

"We did consider it, but with all due respect, Headmaster, Lily and I don't want you in charge of deciding who gets to know where we are," James said. "If you're our Secret-Keeper, I am quite convinced you will let no one know and leave us completely isolated."

Dumbledore let an eyebrow rise. "The point of the charm is to keep you hidden," he reminded them. "If you constantly have people over, or leave the house, like you did during the Basilisk attack – which was very irresponsible of you – it defeats the purpose of the charm."

"We won't leave the house – often," James said. "And it's not like we're going to tell _a lot _of people – just our closest friends."

Dumbledore sighed. "Very well. Since you've refused my offer, who have you chosen to be your Secret-Keeper then?"

"Sirius," James and Lily chorused.

Dumbledore frowned. "Are you absolutely certain about this? With an unknown traitor in the Order - "

"It's not Sirius," James said firmly. "I trust him with my life, and more importantly, Lily and Harry's life as well. He would rather die than betray us."

"And he has agreed to this?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," Lily said. "James asked him yesterday. I will cast the charm tomorrow."

Dumbledore sighed. "Well. I can see your minds have been made up. And if you trust Sirius, I will not stand against this choice. Not that it would matter if I did," he added, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Not a bit," James agreed. "Before you leave, Lily and I have something for you. First, you wanted to borrow this." He summoned his invisibility cloak and Dumbledore noticeably lit up, taking it almost reverently. "Not that I know why – it's not like you need a cloak to make yourself invisible."

Dumbledore only chuckled.

"And here is our will. We trust you to execute it if something, Merlin forbid, goes wrong," Lily said, handing over a scroll of parchment to the Headmaster. "And just in case," she took a deep breath and handed Dumbledore a Gringotts key, "we've set up a trust vault for Harry's schooling."

"As for his custody, Sirius is our first choice, of course, but since he is our Secret-Keeper, he will likely be dead if the will has to be followed," James continued, swallowing slightly at the thought of his best friend dying for them. "Buffy – and Remus, though he isn't explicitly mentioned - is our second choice, Frank and Alice our third. We don't think Peter can handle raising a child, so if none of those we mentioned can get custody, it will be up to you to raise him as you see fit, or place him where you see fit, preferably in a wizarding family."

"Under no circumstances is Harry to get placed with the Dursleys, though," Lily said. "I forgot to add it as an actual stipulation in our will, but I trust it won't be needed. My sister and I are no longer on good terms and I am afraid she wouldn't treat Harry very well, since she's afraid of magic nowadays."

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand."

Before he left, Dumbledore put up a monitoring charm on the house, unbeknownst to James or Lily. _'Just in case', _he told himself. After all, destiny – or prophecy, as the case may be – was not easily averted…

* * *

**24 October**

"Hey, Sirius, we're ready to begin when you are – I'm glad you got here so promptly." James said, and then frowned as he caught sight of Peter. "With Peter. Not that I'm not glad to see you, but you can't be inside the house while we cast the charm."

"There's been a change of plans," Sirius said. "Peter will be your Secret-Keeper instead, not me."

Lily and James stared at him. "What? When did you decide this?"

"Almost right after you left," Sirius said. "Look, something Peter said in passing stuck with me. He said I'm the obvious choice, and he's right. And it's not a good thing. _Everyone _knows I'm your best friend – I'm the first one Voldemort will come after once he figures out you've used the Fidelius. And you know he eventually will."

"You won't betray us, Sirius, if that's what you're worried about – " Lily began, but Sirius interrupted her.

"You're right, I won't, because there'll be nothing to betray. It's the perfect bluff! Everyone will believe I'm the Secret-Keeper – we can even let that information 'slip' – but in reality, it will be Peter, who no one will ever suspect! I can even go into hiding, to make it even more realistic, while Peter just goes on with his normal routine! Voldemort and his Death Eaters will come after me, but even if I'm caught, you'll still be safe!"

"I don't know," Lily bit her lip. "I trust Peter, but are you sure he can handle the pressure? Peter? What do you think?"

"W-well, like Sirius said, I won't really be in danger," Peter said. "So I think it will be alright, if you're fine with it."

"We are," James said after exchanging looks with Lily. "Sirius is right – everyone will expect Sirius to be the Secret-Keeper. No one will ever suspect the truth. It goes against logic – it's completely unexpected... In fact, it's something I should have come up with myself." He grinned slightly. "Alright, then Peter. You'll be our Secret-Keeper and Sirius will be our decoy. Sirius, you can't be inside the house while we cast the charm, so you have to leave."

Sirius nodded and left.

"Peter, stand over here, please," Lily said. "You won't need your wand, or anything. James, grab his right hand, and hold Harry in your own right."

Peter and James did as Lily asked, James having to bend slightly to reach Harry's hand as he was much, much shorter. Then, Lily took Harry's other hand, holding her wand in her right, pointing it at Peter. "_The Potter family is hiding in their cottage at Godric's Hollow_," she said, her voice clear, and then, turned her wand in several complicated twisting motions.

A bright white flash escaped her wand, and hit Peter, who glowed for several seconds. This glow then slowly spread, from Peter to James to Harry – who blinked in awe and confusion – and lastly Lily. The moment it connected with herself, Lily did another twisting motion, and the glowing – now much brighter - was abruptly transferred to their surroundings, including their cat, Sammie, who looked extremely puzzled.

Outside the house, Sirius stood watching the cottage, his eyes widening as it began to glow. Then, there was a bright flash and when it settled down, the house was gone. Sirius blinked in confusion. What was he doing here? Where were Lily and James? Sirius was sure he had been talking to them and Peter less than a minute ago, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember where...

Suddenly, Peter appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. "Peter! Thank Merlin! Where are Lily and James? We were talking and then – "

"The Potter family is hiding in their cottage at Godric's Hollow," Peter whispered in his ear.

Sirius blinked as a house appeared out of nowhere and his memory abruptly returned. "Huh. I completely forgot. I guess the charm works."

"Yes." Peter nodded, then his lips twitched. "Lily forgot to include their cat in the spell, so it was running about the house, completely perplexed. I had to tell it the secret, and boy, did it feel weird. Cat or not, it seemed to work though." He shrugged. "Anyway, we shouldn't hang around here for too long – people might get suspicious if they see us staring at nothing."

Sirius nodded. "You're right. Thanks again for agreeing to the plan, Wormtail. You're a real champ," Sirius said, clapping him on the back, and then apparated away.

"A real champ," Peter muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Right." He snorted. And then, he too, apparated away.

* * *

******************__****Published: **_21__/10 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- The Fidelius: the explanation I've included about it comes from my own deductions about the charm from the books and various internet sources and fanfiction. And speaking of fanfiction: a lot of stories have Harry hiding himself somewhere, being his own secret keeper. I always thought if that were possible, James and Lily would have done the same/more people would have used it, so I made up the rule that the secret keeper cannot live within the confines of his own secret. Since the charm is called Fidelius, I figured the trust element involved had to be rather important. If you could just ignore that, it would be too convenient. We learn Voldemort uses the Fidelius on his HQ in ROC28. And is Voldemort 'inhuman' enough to be his own Secret Keeper, or did he have the real Secret-Keeper fake his handwriting to fool the Order? Let me know what you think most likely! And if you think the Secret-Keeper is one of his DE's, which one?

- Diggle's or Doge's – Buffy is talking about Dedalus Diggle and Elphias Doge.

- Buffy throwing up when her pregnancy has gone on for a little over three weeks at the most: usually, morning sickness begins around the first 4-6 weeks, but for some it starts as early as week 2.

- If Buffy was pregnant when the full moon came around, shouldn't Moony have smelled it? No - it was too early for him to realise any change in Buffy's body.

- In_ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban _chapter 10,we learn that Dumbledore himself offered to be the Potter's Secret-Keeper, but James said that Sirius would rather die than betray them.

- Here, James finally let's Dumbledore borrow his Invisibility cloak as promised, which is also the reason he has it in his possession and can pass it on to Harry in _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. _As to the Potter's will, in a lot of fanfiction, their will explicitly states Harry is not to be placed with the Dursleys. Here, I decided against that and instead had Lily simply tell Dumbledore that, as it is not my intention to want my Dumbledore to be a total bastard - just slightly manipulative, and well-meaning but sometimes surprisingly idiotic/short-sighted/blinded to his own faults.

- During a PotterCast interview with J.K. Rowling in 2007, we learn that Dumbledore had placed a charm on the Potter's house that would alert him if something happened to it, which is why I had him do it here. It is, obviously, how he knows the charm has been broken and why he sends Hagrid to check up on the Potters during Halloween.

- We know from_ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ that James and Lily only decided to make Peter the Secret Keeper because Sirius suggested it at the last moment: (_"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it. [...] I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you."_)


	26. Downfall

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

_Do not go gentle into that good night.  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.  
- Dylan Thomas_

**31 October**

Peter's heart beat furiously against his ribcage as he stared up at the imposing doors leading to the Dark Lord's throne room. They had always been imposing, he supposed, but tonight they were even more so.

Suddenly, Peter noticed he was shaking and he quickly clenched his trembling fists and took several deep breaths to try and calm himself down. This was the point of no return for him, he realised. Not when he had sworn fealty to the Dark Lord and taken the Dark Mark, not when he'd made his first kill, or when he'd sold out the locations of various Order members, but right here, right now.

Even whilst being a Death Eater, and getting more deeply involved in the Dark Lord's operations, Peter felt he'd still done his best to continue his friendship with at least Remus, Sirius and James, and even tried to keep them somewhat safe. But now...

Peter's stomach clenched. The knowledge he now held spelled certain doom for at least James, Lily and their son, should he choose to divulge it. And how could he not? The Dark Lord would find out eventually, anyway. And then he would die too, for not telling his Master immediately. He had already kept his silence for a whole week, which was risky enough. He had no choice.

He cared about Lily and James, sure – once, he'd even idolised James – but the truth was, this was war, and above all else, Peter was a survivor. Besides, he rationalised, this wasn't even his fault. It hadn't been his choice to become the Secret-Keeper – Sirius had decided for him, even if Peter had, half on purpose, led him to that decision. It wasn't his fault Sirius was stupid enough to not realise that. His mind made up, Peter knocked on the heavy doors – once, twice – before stepping inside, the doors closing behind him with a foreboding sound.

Peter steeled his heart as he walked up to the Dark Lord's throne, his head held high, until it became time to kneel before it. "My Lord... I bring joyous news." He swallowed. "The Potter's have hidden under the Fidelius Charm, and chose me to be their Secret Keeper." He raised his watery eyes to the Dark Lord's. "The location of their home is yours, my Lord...should you want it," he finished hesitantly.

The Dark Lord stared into Peter's eyes for several long moments, as if he was hesitant to believe Peter was telling him the truth. And then, his lips curled upwards and he began to laugh, his voice high and cackling, filled with delight - and victory.

If Peter still held out any hope that his Master was no longer interested in killing the Potters, it disappeared in that moment. He prepared to steel his heart again, but it proved unnecessary. The guilt he'd expected to feel didn't come. And why should it? It wasn't his fault his friends constantly chose to put themselves in harm's way, thereby gaining the Dark Lord's attention. Hadn't James and Lily brought this on themselves, by constantly opposing and defying the Dark Lord? They could have done the smart thing, and bowed out of the fight, he reflected after several moments of listening to his Master's laugh.

They were his friends, but they were also his enemies. War demanded sacrifice, actions had consequences and history was written by the winners. Peter planned to be one of them. Anything else was unthinkable, he thought, as the Dark Lord gestured for him to rise, and stood. Basking in his Master's words of praise, Peter's head rose another fraction. It was over. He had done what was necessary. He felt no regret. Nor happiness, really. Just...cold emptiness.

* * *

Sirius parked his motorcycle and approached the Pettigrew house. When he'd gone over to Godric's Hollow yesterday for a brief visit, he'd promised both Lily and James to check on Peter before he went into hiding to trick the Death Eaters and Voldemort into going after him, just to see he was holding up. Lily had once again, just like she had the day they cast the charm, pointed out that Peter didn't do well under pressure and thought it was their responsibility to make sure he was alright.

"Hi, Mrs. Pettigrew!" Sirius said, a bright, charming grin on his face as the door to the Pettigrew house was opened by Peter's mother. Sirius still couldn't believe Peter had decided to move back to live with his mother after Samantha's death, especially since Peter always complained about how overbearing she could be. "Is Peter home?"

"Oh, no, I'm afraid not," Mrs. Pettigrew answered and Sirius' smiled slipped from his face. "He hasn't been by for days. He rarely sleeps in his own bed anymore." She sounded a little rueful.

"Oh." Sirius blinked. "Well, maybe he's over at his girlfriend's house, then."

Mrs. Pettigrew looked astonished. "His girlfriend? I thought she offed herself."

Sirius flinched at that rather callous remark about Samantha, even if it _was_ true. "No, not Samantha. Claire? They've been together for over two years...?" he trailed off, hoping to see recognition in Mrs. Pettigrew's face, but the woman looked completely bewildered. Sirius began to have a horrible feeling in his gut.

"Well, he certainly hasn't told _me_ about this girlfriend!" She huffed, sounding very offended.

Sirius' bad feeling increased ten-fold. "Well, she is a muggle," he said weakly, trying to find a logical excuse. Mrs. Pettigrew was very traditional...perhaps that was the reason Peter hadn't told her. Mrs. Pettigrew huffed again. "H-how often is Peter gone?" Sirius asked, swallowing.

Mrs. Pettigrew let an eyebrow rise. "Most nights," she finally said. "Most days. He lives here, but he doesn't _live _here. If the reason for that is because he's been living in sin with his secret muggle girlfriend somewhere, he is certainly going to get it when he gets home! I've raised him better than that!"

Sirius smiled weakly, his stomach dropping like stone. "Well, if he's not here, I better be on my way."

"When you see him, let him know I expect him to give me an explanation promptly!" Mrs. Pettigrew called after him as Sirius left the porch and climbed onto his bike, taking to the air. "And is that bike registered with the Ministry, young man?" She added with a shout, but Sirius ignored her, already going full speed in the direction of Godric's Hollow.

* * *

"Do you want to see a trick, Harry?" James asked, holding up his wand, which made his son try to reach for the wand with his chubby hands. Chuckling, James nodded. "I'll take that as a yes." Waving his wand, he made puffs of smoke in different colours erupt from the tip, and Harry laughed. Bouncing on the sofa, he tried to grab the smoke in his small fists, looking quite put out when it dissolved on contact, which made James laugh.

The door to the sitting room opened, and Lily stepped inside, her dark red hair hanging loosely over her shoulders, framing her face. "I think it's time for bed now, Harry," she said, smiling at her son: he looked too cute for words in his blue pyjama and messy, dark hair, his green eyes bright. Carefully, James scooped him up and placed him in Lily's gentle arms, placing a kiss on her cheek before he ruffled up Harry's hair. "Goodnight, Bambi," he said, winking.

Lily rolled her eyes and, as she began to exit them room, James yawned widely, stretched out his muscles and threw his wand down upon the sofa, while staring appreciatively at Lily's backside.

Suddenly, the outer door exploded inwards in a loud explosion of debris and light. Both James and Lily spun around, eyes wide in shock and terror.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off," James yelled, pushing a protesting Lily out of the sitting room, before sprinting towards the hall to the sound of his wife's footsteps disappearing up the stairs.

Inwardly, James cursed himself for leaving his wand so carelessly, for allowing himself to grow complacent while under the safety of the Fidelius Charm, which, apparently, wasn't so safe. More fool he. He really should have known better, especially after the years he'd spent under Mad-Eye, listening to the paranoid Auror drilling the phrase 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE' into his head. But wandless or not, he would still fight.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ Coming face to face with Voldemort himself, James eyes widened a fraction before his well-honed reflexes kicked in and he threw himself sideways, the killing curse missing him by a hair's breadth. James knew that the only reason he'd been able to avoid the green light at all was because of Buffy's teachings, which had improved his physical prowess and reaction time considerably. He threw the Slayer a silent 'thanks' in his mind, glad that she had insisted on a physical training regime for the Order.

However, James was unable to duck the silent curse that came a second later, splitting open a large searing gap in his thigh that immediately began to bleed heavily. It seemed as though Voldemort had learnt his lesson of not taking victory against the Potters for granted, since he was clearly not interested in gloatingthis time around.

Barely able to duck another killing curse, James made his way back into the sitting room, throwing himself down behind the sofa, grabbing his wand in the process. A second later, the sofa was blown to pieces, leaving him exposed and James ducked into a forward roll, sending off a silent - borderline dark - curse, which the Dark Lord neatly sidestepped, seemingly bored. "What did you do to Peter you son of a bitch?" James spat as he got to his feet, slowly backing away to increase the distance between him and Voldemort.

Voldemort let an eyebrow rise. "I'm not certain what you mean," he said smoothly. "I didn't do anything to him." James furious look faltered as a feeling of dread rose. "In fact," Voldemort continued, "Peter was quite happy to divulge all the information I needed."

"And how many hours of torture did that take?" James asked through gritted teeth.

"Oh, none at all," Voldemort sounded almost surprised. "I'm not in the habit of torturing my followers." He smirked. "Well, not as much as my enemies, at least."

James heart came to a stop. No. It couldn't be. Peter wouldn't have.

Loyalty was one of the qualities James valued the most in people, in himself: his unconditional belief in his friends was one of the traits he was most proud of. It was that devotion that made him defend Remus when Sirius believed him to be the traitor. It was that trust that made him and Lily choose Sirius, and then Peter, as Secret Keeper, instead of Dumbledore.

To James, if it came down to it, laying down his life for his friends and family was the natural course of things. That he would die rather than betray or abandon them was, to him, obvious. That someone would willingly do that – that Peter would willingly do that - was beyond his understanding. "I don't believe you," James said through gritted teeth, clutching his wand tighter in his hand.

Voldemort laughed, his voice high-pitched and the sound cold and cruel, chilling James to the bones. "The truth hurts, does it not, _Prongs?"_ the Dark Lord mocked. "But I assure you, I am not lying. What would I gain from it? Peter Pettigrew is, I assure you, a Death Eater."

James still didn't want to believe it. It was mindboggling. But it made so much sense. Peter's strange absences, Peter's muggle girlfriend that they never got to meet, Peter beginning to wear long sleeves all the time, Peter always mysteriously missing from major places of attack or getting himself knocked out early on...

And now, the Fidelius: broken when the only way of breaking it was for the Secret Keeper to willingly divulge the secret. Peter was the spy. James inhaled sharply as the realisation finally hit home, like a stinging punch to his chest. Peter was one of his best friends, someone he had trusted his life with – his family's life with – and he had sold them out. James could not deny the truth any longer.

How could they not have seen this? James let out a sharp chuckle of disbelief. Hindsight was all well and good, but it didn't help him now. Like a gullible fool James had trusted him without a second thought, because even the mere idea of a friend's betrayal was laughable. And now that blind trust had led to this. By trusting the wrong person, by trusting Peter Pettigrew, James might as well have hand-delivered his wife and son to Voldemort himself. If Lily and Harry died tonight, it would be his own damn fault. He was an idiot. They were _all _idiots.

Voldemort sounded quite pleased with himself as he continued: "He has been mine for years now, always so eager to please. Over-eager, one might say. So don't worry your pretty little head about your friend. He will be greatly rewarded."

Still half-lost in his feelings of betrayal, James completely missed Voldemort's next incantation: _"CRUCIO!"_ The curse hit him straight on, James having been too late to duck the Unforgivable and he screamed as it felt like one thousand white-hot knives bore into his skin at once, falling to the floor at once as his legs failed him. As if in a daze, James heard the Dark Lord laughing.

Finally, finally, Voldemort lifted the curse but for several seconds, James could only lie there. Logically, he knew he had to get up, knew that there was nothing that kept Voldemort from killing him, right this second. Thankfully, he still had a grip, albeit a lose one, around his wand, and summoning his last strength he sent off a silent spell at a still laughing Dark Lord. Voldemort, with a look of shock on his face that would have looked comical if the situation hadn't been so dire, flew backwards with a jerk, giving James enough time to get back on his feet, legs trembling beneath him.

Gasping, James ran into the kitchen, knowing he had to buy time, for himself and for Lily and Harry. His entire body was still shaky from the exposure of the torture curse, his muscles spasming alarmingly. He knew his reaction time would be off, and that it was likely his normally perfect aim would be off as well, if the way his eyes occasionally blurred was any indication, not to mention his fingers, which were twitching alarmingly, making it difficult to keep a proper grip around his wand.

The Dark Lord, his facial expression one of utter fury, appeared in the doorway, and rather than shoot of a spell at the Dark Lord, James aimed his wand at the kitchen drawers. Sharp utensils flew out, aimed straight at Voldemort, who, with a flick off his wand made them all crash to the floor. "I tire of you, Potter," Voldemort spat, sending a curse which looked like a large bubble in his direction. Not particularly keen on finding out what it did, James ducked, swearing as his wobbly legs betrayed him and he lost his balance, falling ungracefully on his butt, luckily behind the table, out of the Dark Lord's reach, at least for a moment.

Flicking his wand at the chairs, they immediately transfigured themselves into large dogs, snapping at Voldemort with sharp, glistening teeth as they approached. As the Dark Lord disposed of them, James took a moment to catch his breath, slowly getting back to his feet, just as Voldemort banished the last dog.

"Why don't you just give up, Potter?" He asked silkily. "Why persist in the humiliation?"

James didn't answer. Instead, he stood waiting, body tense as he waited for the duel to commence. Finally, Voldemort shot off another spell, unfortunately one that took James by surprise, as it wasn't aimed at him, but rather at the kitchen table, which reared up, the flat surface smacking James in the face. Shocked, James raised his wand to blast it away from him, but not before it hit him again, his head knocked backwards, his neck cracking with a disquieting sound.

Gasping and dazed, James threw himself out of the other door, ending up on the other side of the living room where they'd begun their duel. This time, when Voldemort followed, he didn't waste time on more chit-chat, and James gritted his teeth in determination as he fought to block the sudden barrage of spells which were coming at him at a merciless speed. Finally, James found an opening.

_BANG!_ James conjured up a long rope, made up entirely of crackling magical energy at Voldemort..._BANG! _The rope turned into a massive snake, rearing at James... _BANG!_ The snake turned into a flaming whip..._BANG!_ Voldemort dispelled the whip with a flick of his wand, sending a purple curse in his direction... James raised his wand and the curse was absorbed by shimmering protective shield... James dropped the shield and set off a powerful blast of air... Voldemort stumbled backwards, snarled, and sent off three letal curses in succession: James blocked the first, ducked the second, and summoned a piece of debris which got in the way of the third. The battle went on, Voldemort unfortunately advancing as they moved through the house, leaving destruction in their path due to the powerful magic flying around.

James gritted his teeth as he eventually ended up with his back to the stairs. Lily and Harry – unless they had gotten out already, and he unfortunately doubted it – were still on the upper floor. He couldn't let Voldemort get past him. But he also knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with the Dark Lord for much longer. James was more than aware that he was running on empty: only pure, stubborn will, a refusal to give up, was keeping him going. He was quickly losing blood, not to mention energy and ideas.

He and Lily had always faced Voldemort together. One distracting, one attacking: one on defence, one on offense. Two to take the fire, two to divert the attention, two to challenge Voldemort. James was under no illusions either of them would have survived so many encounters with him if they'd stood alone.

Like he was doing now.

"For what it's worth," Voldemort said slowly, "you have my respect for lasting this long. However, we both know how this night will end." Once again, he increased the speed and strength of spell casting. "It is useless to resist."

James clenched his jaw. Well, it wasn't like he was going to make it easy for him. Hopefully, his pure, dumb luck could keep him alive a little longer; buy Lily a few more seconds... He could only hope his actions would give her enough time to escape with Harry. As long as they lived, James knew his inevitable death would be worth it.

Voldemort's eyes blazed as James continued to block or avoid almost every curse sent at him, and he finally lost his temper. "Why won't you just _die?!" _he roared, and finally sent a spell at the floor, beneath James. The floorboards moved, breaking into splinters, and James was taken by surprise. _"IMPERIO!"_

James, unable to jump out of the way in time, was hit with the second unforgivable that evening. A strange, blissful sensation clouded James' mind and he stood, dazed, as all his worries and fear for his family left him. A strange, commanding voice in the back of his mind was telling him to give up. _'Turn your wand upon yourself…kill yourself…go on…in death, you will be free…'_

James lifted his wand and pointed it at his chest and opened his mouth, the killing curse ready on his lips. _'Why should I?' _Another voice suddenly appeared in his mind_. 'Kill yourself! Now!'_ the first voice commanded. _'Isn't that a ridiculous thing to do?' _the second voice scoffed._ 'Think of Lily - think of Harry!' _The thoughts on his wife and son brought James out of his stupor. _'DO IT!' _the first voice yelled.

Reality hit James with full force and the fog in his brain dissipated, and instead of obeying, he sent off a powerful curse towards Voldemort. His aim was off, however, and the spell missed, hitting the wall behind the Dark Lord instead, and a large hole appeared. As the Dark Lord stared at James, apparently shocked that he'd managed to throw off the curse, James used the opportunity to send of another spell.

"_EVERTE STATUM!"_ The spell hit the Dark Lord hard in the chest and he was sent flying for the second time that night, spinning in the air, and crashed into the already damaged wall behind him. James quickly followed up with an overpowered third spell: _"BOMBARDA!"_ The Dark Lord was once again hit, and he flew back into the hall, going straight through the sitting room wall. Dust, splinters and dirt flew everywhere and clouded James' vision as he hesitantly moved away from the stairs and stepped into the destroyed neighbouring room, wand raised, his heart thumping madly against his chest.

He carefully walked across the broken plaster and furniture, looking around cautiously. He did not see the Dark Lord sneak up behind him, wand raised, a silent spell on his lips. When James finally noticed his presence as the Dark Lord stepped on a shard of glass, and he spun around, it was too late: the curse had already left Voldemort's wand, and James had no chance to block it. A streak of what looked like purple flame passed right across James chest, hitting his ribs, and he yelled in pain as he felt them break. Blood dripped from his abdomen and left a large circled red stain across his torn shirt and he fell to the floor in a pool of his own blood.

The Dark Lord laughed maniacally and easily disarmed him. It was over. He was going to he saw Voldemort enter their house, he'd known it: but he also knew that he'd go out fighting. He knew he'd lived his life to the fullest, and he supposed that now, he'd die as he'd lived – with a blast, and for his friends. For his family. For Lily. For Harry.

It is said that when you die, flashes of your life pass in front of your eyes: this was not true. James saw nothing of the sort. As Voldemort hurried away, moving towards the stairs, all James could think of was that he had to stop him, and he grabbed the hem of the Dark Lord's robes in a desperate last attempt to stop him, even though it would buy Lily seconds, at most. Hopefully, seconds was all she would need.

Infuriated, Voldemort stopped his advancement towards the stairs, and instead turned his wand upon James once again, even though he was already beaten. While the Dark Lord continued to curse and torture him, his body ending up broken, torn and bloodied, James barely felt the pain; he only felt satisfied that, by getting Voldemort to focus all his rage on him, he was hopefully buying Lily enough time...He could feel himself fade in and out of consciousness.

So much of his life had evolved around Lily Evans, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Yes, he had regrets – he wished that he would have shaped up sooner, that he hadn't been such a git to Snape (well, okay, that was stretching it). Maybe, if he had, they would have had more time together. But at the same time he knew that everything in his life, good and bad, had shaped him into who he was today: a best friend. A husband. A father. Someone willing to lay down his life for his wife and son. To him, it wasn't a sacrifice. It wasn't even a choice.

He had lived for Lily Evans. And now, he would die for her. For her, and their son. As it should be. Hopefully, it would be enough. Hopefully, while he was stalling Voldemort, Lily and Harry had gotten away. Hopefully he hadn't let them down. He loved them so much, and all he wanted was to keep them safe.

Voldemort had stopped cursing him now, and stared into his eyes. James gasped, having trouble breathing, and blood bubbled up his throat from deep inside his chest and lungs, and he couched, the red liquid gushing out as it filled his mouth. An overwhelming sense of dread filled him as the Dark Lord smirked darkly and kneeled beside him, his mouth close to his ear: "You have failed," he whispered, his voice melodic, hypnotising, barely a hiss. "You will die here, slowly, knowing your pathetic attempts to stop me have been useless. Your wife and child are not getting out of this house. There is no way out."

Slowly, deliberately, he dipped the long fingers on his left hand into the blood that had escaped James mouth, James eyes following his actions, staring, disgusted as he watched the Dark Lord licking the blood of his hand with his tongue, one finger at the time. "Potter blood...I wonder...will your son taste as good as you do?"

Dread and horror rose in James chest, and with a last burst of strength, he tried to move, his legs convulsing uselessly. "Hit a nerve, did I?" Voldemort asked, looking amused at his efforts. James eyes flashed with panic and anger, and he weakly managed to stretch out his right arm, fingers reaching desperately for his wand, several feet away, trying to silently summon it. Amusement fading, Voldemort glanced towards the wand, his thin lips curling as he noticed the wand twitching, slowly moving towards James. "Now, now," he admonished mockingly, "none of that." And then, he stood, putting all his weight on James' hand.

A cry of pain escaped James' mouth as he felt his fingers break, along with his control of the magic stretching outwards towards his wand. His eyes rolled back into his head as the weight on his hand increased, the tendons and fragile bones snapping. "No time in the world will be enough to save them," Voldemort sneered, his voice barely a whisper.

As James' vision finally blacked out, the last thing he could make out was Voldemort's back as he moved towards the stairs - towards Lily and Harry. Voldemort was right – he was a failure. The time he'd given them...he knew, it hadn't been enough. Not nearly enough. A single tear escaped his eyes as his lids closed, against his will, his life-blood slowly escaping his body from numerous wound, along with the pain, leaving only lethargy and emptiness in its wake. He was drifting...flying...floating. "I'm going to enjoy killing your son," the Dark Lord hissed.

Oblivion.

_Darkness._

* * *

Lily trembled as she ran up the stairs and entered the nursery, Harry held tightly in her arms. Quickly, she closed the door behind her and carefully put Harry down in his cot. She gave him what she hoped was a comforting smile before she spun around, looking around the room, trying to figure out what to do. Below, she could already hear the sounds of battle, of James fighting for his – and their – life.

There was no floo upstairs. Apparating did not work. There was no way to escape. Lily ran over to the window and tried to force it open, but it was magically shut, just like all the other windows and doors. And she had left her wand downstairs. Somehow, Voldemort had sealed them inside, keeping them prisoner in their own home. Swallowing heavily, Lily grabbed a chair and threw it at the window with all her might, but the glass refused to break, while the chair splintered apart when it impacted – whatever wards Voldemort had put up, it was preventing her from breaking the glass.

"Oh, God." Lily let out a scream of angry denial and fear, terror filling her as she realised she and Harry were truly trapped. From below, she could hear the Dark Lord laughing. Had James been defeated? No, she could still hear the sounds of fighting, and the noise gave Lily comfort. James was still alive. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Lily somehow managed to pull herself together. There was no time for panic. Harry's life depended on her being able to keep him safe if Voldemort got past James.

She began to move another chair, and then some boxes, to barricade the door with, even though she knew it was useless – but she had to do _something._ Lily let out a sharp sob as she glanced at the cot. Harry was staring up at her with large green eyes from his position on his back. He was chewing on a corner of his blue blanket, some drool dribbling down the corner of his mouth.

"It's going to be alright, Harry," Lily whispered, though she knew she was lying. Carefully, she picked him up again, placing a trembling hand on the back of his head as she clutched him against her chest: his hair was already mirroring the mess of his father's, and his heartbeat, soft and calm against hers, was a comforting sound. "Mama loves you. So very much."

Her eyes closed in regret.

They'd been fools to trust unconditionally, fools to have no back-up plan, fools to have grown lax in their home even under the supposed safety of the Fidelius Charm, which had clearly broken, even though they'd whole-heartedly believed in their safety ensured by a friend.

Some friend he'd turned out to be.

More time passed. She could still hear the sounds of duelling, and she wished she could help. But all she could do was wait – the only way out seemed to be through the front door, which was currently unreachable. There was no escape from this. The floor shook beneath her feet as the spells exchanged between Voldemort and her husband thundered below. James...

Never had she thought she'd come to care about anyone – least of all him – as much as she loved James - and Harry, of course. Some would say she and James were too dissimilar to work as a couple, and perhaps they were right. In many ways, they were opposites. But though they were different, they were also the same: they completed each other, balanced each other out. James understood her, in a way no one did, in a way no one ever had, not even Severus, for all their years of friendship.

As a little girl, and new to the magical world, Severus had been her anchor. He'd been her best friend, but that had been when they were naive, innocent and unbroken, and not yet corrupted by the complications of real life, which had eventually led them down completely opposite roads. Slowly, the friendship had shattered as the boy she'd known slowly turned into a stranger before her eyes – as the darkness and bitterness inside him took over until there was almost nothing left of her best friend.

Finally turning her back on him was among the hardest things she'd ever done, but Severus made his choice, and it was one Lily could never understand, let alone support. But she had never given up on their friendship: she still believed that the boy she'd known was still in there and hoped Severus would realise it too - realise it was never too late to change.

The sounds from below stopped, and for a moment, Lily felt her heart stop. Then, she heard someone cry out – James – before everything fell ominously silent once more. Lily's heart started beating again, second after second going by as the stillness continued. Why was it so silent? Were they _both_ dead? But no. She could hear footsteps now, slowly walking up the stairs. For a second, she dared to hope, that perhaps, against all odds, James had made it. After all, they had beaten the odds before, hadn't they? The small sense of hope was crushed as soon as it had come: the steps were too hard, too heavy, too foreboding. They weren't James'.

"Dada?" Harry asked, his green eyes wide as he grabbed onto her sweater. It was as if he somehow knew... Lily forced herself to smile bravely at him as she began to silently cry at the realisation her husband was gone.

"Daddy loves you too Harry," Lily whispered brokenly as she looked down at Harry, trying to memorise his every feature. He was a beautiful baby. The moment she'd set eyes on him, she'd fallen in love. She only wished she could have gotten the chance to see him grow up.

Looking back, Lily could see that before Buffy, before the marauders, before James, Lily's life had, in many ways, been rather empty. In her friends, in James, in Harry, she'd found her reason – her destiny – she'd found her _family._ And now, her little safe haven that she'd built with them was all but destroyed, her family ripped apart – and it was so unfair.

They'd had so little time.

She wasn't afraid to die. But she wasn't ready either. She had barely lived: she had so many things she still wanted to do, to experience. She wished she and James and Harry would have had more moments, as a family, together. She wanted to show Harry Hogwarts and Diagon Alley and all the other amazing places in the Wizarding World. And it _was_ amazing, despite the war, despite the terror it was currently under. She wanted to hold James again, to kiss him again, to tell him how much she loved him.

The door flew open, and with a lazy wave of his wand, the chair and the boxes were cast aside. Steeling herself, Lily put Harry back into the cot, standing in front of it protectively, arms outstretched, shielding him from view. "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

Voldemort sneered at her. "Stand aside, you silly girl...stand aside, now..."

"Not, Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead – " She knew it was unlikely, _more_ than unlikely, that he'd listen, but she had to try: Lily felt no shame in begging Voldemort, not if it meant even the slightest chance he'd leave Harry alone. Logically, she knew that there was no stopping Voldemort from killing Harry once he'd killed her, but it didn't matter. She had to try, had to do everything in her power, including beseeching Voldemort himself, including praying for a miracle.

"This is my last warning – " Voldemort said, his voice nothing but a terrifying hiss, but Lily barely heard him. All she could think of was Harry, his safety, his life.

She kept pleading: Harry had to live. "Not Harry! Please...have mercy...have mercy... Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything – "

"Stand aside – stand aside, girl –"

Absently, Lily wondered why Voldemort was giving her so many chances to stand aside in the first place, but she didn't care. She was not moving from this spot. Harry had to live.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

A familiar green light was streaming in her direction, filling the room, and yet, Lily didn't move. She closed her eyes.

If Harry lived, it would all be worth it. If Harry lived, it would –

Lily's body had barely hit the floor before Voldemort advanced, stepping over her carelessly. "Pathetic," he sneered down at the empty green eyes, before he turned to the cot, looking down at the child within.

Harry Potter, at long last.

The baby was utterly silent, standing up in his cot, clutching the bars and his eyes – identical to his mother's – staring straight at Voldemort. There was no fear there, only curiosity, a kind of bright interest. For a second, the Dark Lord felt a flicker of...something. Shrugging it off, he pointed the wand very carefully into the boy's face, nothing but coldness in his red eyes.

The baby – his supposed downfall (and wasn't that laughable?) - began to cry, at last, as if he could sense something was wrong.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ The green light of the curse left his wand and struck the crying baby straight in the forehead.

The child screamed in pain – but then – Voldemort's eyes widened in shock as the curse _rebounded_ off the baby's forehead and back towards him, hitting him straight in the chest with full force, and he _broke_. An inhuman scream left the Dark Lord as his body disintegrated into nothing, his spirit fleeing in a shriek of agony and fear.

The Fidelius Charm, broken with the death of Lily Potter, was gone, the house and the bodies inside, living and dead, flickering into existence. Everyone within viewing distance could see the magical backlash from the rebounding killing curse spread outwards, through walls, through windows, through the roof. The building became surrounded by a circle of green light before the right side of the top floor exploded with a loud sonic boom, leaving nothing but a large hole.

Everything grew still and silent, the green light dissipating away into nothingness. On top of a hill Peter Pettigrew stood in shock, having observed the scene. His first reaction was to transform, to flee – but then fear hit him. He didn't know what had happened. What if the Dark Lord was still alive? If that was the case, and he ran, You-Know-Who would kill him for leaving. But if he was alive, then Peter could help him – he would be rewarded beyond his wildest dreams, perhaps even become the right hand of the Dark Lord himself. He would finally be appreciated and worshipped.

The decision made for him, Peter hurried down the hill as fast as his legs could take him, across the street and into the house – he didn't even glance at James' still body – up the stairs and into the nursery. There was no sign of the Dark Lord, except for his wand and a pile of smoking robes that looked to have been burned into the floor, close to Lily's body. Averting his eyes, Peter quickly pocketed the wand and then left, without looking back, not noticing the very-much alive baby in the cot. Once outside, he promptly transformed into a rat, tucked his tail between his legs, and ran.

* * *

Amelia Bones yawned deeply as she finalised another piece of paperwork. Glancing at the clock, she noted with a little surprise, she realised it was nearly midnight. A little ruefully, she shook her head. Ever since her parents, brother, sister in law, and her two little nieces had been killed, she had worked even harder at the Ministry. She had always been a little bit of a workaholic, something that became even more apparent once the war started, but the death of most of her family had taken her commitment to new heights.

Unlike a lot of other people she knew, Amelia wasn't in it in the hopes of getting a promotion, though it would be nice if she got to take Crouch's spot eventually. She severely disliked her boss and his methods, not to mention the underhanded dealings he did that he didn't think she knew about. The Law Enforcement Office, more than any other department, needed to be free from corruption.

Deciding she might as well finish the rest of her paperwork, she stood up to grab a pepper-up potion (she was really abusing them, she thought musingly) to keep herself awake. Just as she took a sip, the fire flared up and Dumbledore's head appeared.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Amelia greeted respectfully. "What can I do for you?"

"The monitoring charm I keep on the Potter's home in Godric's Hollow has gone haywire. I fear Voldemort has attacked them."

Amelia paled. The Potters. She knew just as well as anyone about the way Lily and James Potter had stood against Voldemort. When she had heard from Moody that James had resigned from the Auror academy so he could go into hiding with his family, she had been baffled, and worried for his sake. And now, if Voldemort had attacked them, it seemed she had a reason to be.

"I see. I will send over Moody and Scrimgeour immediately to check it out with a team. What do you think they should expect?"

Dumbledore didn't answer and only gave her a sad look, and then vacated the fire.

* * *

Sirius' heart thumped wildly in his chest as he neared Godric's Hollow on his bike, hoping it was only paranoia that was causing his panic – that Peter had only gone for a walk, or was visiting Lily and James, or Remus and Buffy, or Claire… But inwardly, he knew the bad feeling in his chest was more than that. Peter was the spy in the Order. There was no Claire. There had never been a Claire. The muggle girlfriend no one got to see because she hadn't been told Peter was a wizard was just a convenient excuse that allowed him to be elsewhere without causing suspicion. All the pieces of the puzzle were falling together.

Sirius felt sick as he realised more instances, instances that had added to Sirius' suspicion of Remus – Remus, who was their friend, Remus who would feel more loyalty than anyone to his friends for all they'd done for him, for not abandoning him when they learnt of his lycanthropy (how could Sirius ever have suspected him?) - also somehow involved Peter.

All the times Peter had been knocked out early in a battle – Merlin, he'd been right next to Mandy when she was taken by Death Eaters, and yet, Sirius had blamed _Remus,_ because _everyone knew_ Peter wasn't a very good fighter so he _couldn't help_ being taken out… All the times Peter had been plain_ absent_ from battle, like during the Quintapeds attack, or the time he'd excused himself from the Quidditch match when Michaela had met her death – had he known it would be attacked? Of course he'd known! He may have even been one of the people behind a mask!

Peter, who had always been the weakest of them, who had always been the ultimate _follower, _who even had a _rat _as an Animagus form. Peter, who couldn't hold Harry without him crying - had a _baby_ realised what they hadn't? That Peter was a Death Eater? Merlin, they'd even left Harry_ alone _with him!

Peter, whose girlfriend killed herself – oh Merlin, had Samantha known? Realised? Was that why she had committed suicide? Had it even _been_ a suicide, or had Peter…? Sirius nearly threw up at the mere thought of Peter killing her. No. He couldn't possibly be_ that _evil. But he obviously had no problem with leading Order members to their deaths. He must have been passing along information to Voldemort for months. Maybe years.

And now, Lily and James… The Fidelius charm… Peter's voice rang in Sirius' head: _"__It's rather obvious, isn't it? ... You're the most obvious choice."_ Had Peter realised the opportunity the Fidelius offered him, if he was made the Secet-Keeper? That he could hand Lily, James and Harry to Voldemort served on a silver platter? Had he planned it? Had he deliberately planted the seed of doubt in Sirius that made him come to the conclusion that they had to switch? Sirius didn't want to believe it. Peter had known them since first year; James had always been his friend, always stood up for him. And yet... If Peter hadn't planned it, if that sort of betrayal was too much, even for someone who had already betrayed everything and almost everyone else, _why hadn't Peter said no?_

Sirius was still a few kilometers away, when a flash of green light lit up the dark sky, coming from the direction of Godric's Hollow. For a second, he tried to tell himself that he was imagining it, that it was just his paranoia playing tricks on him…but then, a thunderous sonic boom reached his ears, deafening, despite the distance to the village, and he realised it was everything but. "No…nonononono…" Sirius increased the speed of his flying motorbike, willing it to go faster.

Finally, he reached the village and Sirius could do nothing but stare at the destruction he saw, horrified. The house Lily and James had lived in was nearly completely demolished, and several people from the village had gathered in front of it. No one even noticed Sirius landing, they were so busy whispering:

"…The house just showed up out of nowhere…"

"…I know! I saw the light and then the house appeared…"

"The Potters live there – I just remembered…but no one could have survived that…"

"I had forgotten the house even existed…"

The Fidelius charm was broken.

Sinking to his knees, for a whole minute, Sirius could only stare at the building, his entire body shaking as he wished for a miracle: wished that James and Lily would come out, unharmed… His eyes widened in shock and hope when he heard a baby's cry and a large shadow appeared in the doorway.

Sirius stumbled to his feet, pushing past the gossiping villagers. "Harry!" He abruptly came to a stop right in front of the house when he saw the shadow hadn't been Lily or James, like he thought, but Hagrid. "Hagrid…what are you doing here? Is that Harry?! Harry's alive!"

Hagrid nodded, sobbing large tears, nearly as loud as Harry. "Jus' got him outta the ruins…" Hagrid managed to get out. "Poor little thing…an orphan now… Dumbledore somehow knew when it happened…great man, Dumbledore…told me to come here…"

"Lily and James are dead?" Sirius asked, his face white. He had known they were…as soon as he saw the house…but to hear it.

Hagrid nodded, sniffing loudly. "I know James was yer best friend, Sirius. I am so sorry…so sorry…" he burst out into new loud tears: it was hard to tell who was loudest, him or Harry. Hagrid pulled Sirius close, patting him on the head with one of his large hands in what was meant to be a consoling gesture. "I'm so sorry…Lily an' James…good people…good people…" Sirius barely noticed Hagrid's attempts at comfort, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Peter had to pay…but he had to make sure Harry was alright first.

"Let me see Harry, Hagrid," Sirius got out, pulling away from the half-giant. "I need to make sure he's alright…"

Hagrid finally managed to pull himself together. "In a bit of shock, I think," he said as he kneeled down, letting Sirius catch a glimpse of his godson between the folds of a dusty blue blanket. "Got a great cut on the head, see? Looks just like a lightning bolt, it does…"

"Give Harry to me, Hagrid," Sirius said, sounding a lot calmer than he felt. "I'm his Godfather, I'll look after him – "

Hagrid abruptly shook his head, getting to his feet. "Can't do that, Sirius. I'm under orders from Dumbledore ter take Harry."

Sirius swallowed. "I'm not letting you take him anywhere, Hagrid. Harry is my Godson – "

"I have me orders, Sirius," Hagrid said regretfully.

"I don't care! Harry is my family now!" Sirius hissed, his grey eyes wild and crazed. He couldn't let Hagrid take Harry away…he was all he had left…

"I'm sorry," Hagrid repeated, stubbornly. "But Dumbledore made it very clear what ter do."

Sirius wanted to scream that he didn't give a damn about what Dumbledore said but knew that wouldn't do any good, especially not against Hagrid, whose loyalty to the man was legendary. Instead, he forced himself to take a deep breath. "Alright," he said. If he couldn't have Harry, then he would make damn sure he got Peter instead. "You take him then… In fact, you should take my motorcycle. I won't need it anymore."

Sirens were beginning to sound – the muggle authorities must have been notified by one of the village's inhabitants. Hagrid gawked at Sirius. Still, there was no hiding the slight longing in his eyes as he caught sight of the bike. "Are yer sure?"

"I'm sure."

Hagrid nodded slowly and made his way over to Sirius bike, Harry clutched in his arms. Sirius watched until Hagrid had taken off, and was only a small speck in the dark sky. Taking a deep breath, Sirius grabbed his wand tightly in his hand, his grey eyes hardening. He had a rat to find.

* * *

**********************__****Published: **_3__1__/10 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- _Do Not Go Gentle_ is a poem by Dylan Thomas and the small part of the poem at the beginning of this chapter consists of the last two lines of the poems sixth and final stanza, which, incidentally, are also the poems most famous two refrains. In summary, it means that you should fight against the oncoming of death with everything you have and not just give up. For this chapter – mostly for, and in honour of, Lily and James, but even for Voldemort – I thought it was particularly fitting.

- In POA, we learn Sirius went to check on Peter in his hiding place and immediately realised something was wrong, when he wasn't there and there was no sign of struggle. Here, Peter has not gone into hiding and is still living with his mother, and therefore is clued in to his possible betrayal by her instead.

- In POA, Sirius muses to Peter that "it must have been the finest moment of his life, telling Voldemort he could hand him the Potters." To me, Peter is someone I imagine have been put down a lot. So for him to tell Voldemort this, which will clearly get him the praise he thinks he deserves, must have at least been a moment of accomplishment for him. But I don't believe he felt any satisfaction, pride, or joy either, like Sirius believes. After all, he is selling out people who have been his friends for years, effectively sentencing them to death. This fits with what Lily's letter from DH (Kreacher's Tale) mentions, when Lily writes Peter seemed 'down' during his last visit (which I did not include in this story). It can't have been a completely easy decision to make. But I also have it difficult to believe he feels much regret – Peter is someone who is a master of deluding people - including himself, I believe – therefore, in an attempt to justify this decision, he manages to talk himself into thinking he is not really doing anything wrong, only what is necessary for his own survival, and it's not really his fault, so why should he feel guilt? So without joy, or guilt, only emptiness can remain.

- In DH (Bathilda's Secret), we learn that when Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow, he spotted the Potters through the window, James making puffs of coloured smoke with his wand to amuse Harry, Lily entering, etc. which is where the peaceful family moment before Voldemort's entrance comes from.

- In DH, we learn that James never got the chance to really defend his family against Voldemort and was killed the moment the Dark Lord arrived, because he did not have his wand. Here, with Buffy's teachings having increased his reaction time, he managed to avoid the first killing curse and grab his wand, and as such, things go quite differently.

- As explained in ROS 23, the Fidelius charm breaks when the spell caster dies: therefore, as Lily cast the spell in ch 24, the spell broke immediately after, which is why the inhabitants in GH can see it, and of course, also why Dumbledore can utter the name Godric's Hollow to Amelia Bones: when the charm broke, he remembered its existence and that the Potters lived there.


	27. Scar

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**1 November**

The sight the Aurors saw when they arrived at Godric's Hollow when they arrived was something they would always remember. The cottage, clearly visible, its inhabitants no longer hidden, looked a wreck. Though it was still standing, the right side of the top floor had been blown apart, the front door was gone, just pieces left, and all windows were shattered. Even from where they stood at the gate, a long trail of dark blood was clearly visible in the hall, leading, presumably, into another room.

"By Merlin's beard," Tomas Proudfoot breathed, staring in horror at the large hole at the top of the house, and then at all the rubble that lay scattered in the grass. "What happened here?"

Beside him, his Auror partner and fiancée, Emma Ackerly, swallowed heavily. This was the home of one of their friends... She, Tomas, Sirius and James had entered the Academy at the same time – they had trained together for months... Bile rose in her throat. And now James was gone. There was no way he could have survived a direct attack like this. As if knowing what she was thinking, Tomas put an arm around her shoulders.

"Voldemort," Moody answered Tomas grimly as he stared up at the house, an action mirrored by Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head Auror, who had decided to visit the scene in person when he heard it was the Potters who had been attacked. A second later, Dumbledore appeared beside him with a silent 'pop'. The moment the Headmaster saw the sight, his head bowed, and for once, he looked his age.

"What can you tell us?" Moody asked him gruffly.

"I sent Hagrid ahead the moment I realised what had happened when the instruments in my office that monitor the signs of life in Godric's Hollow went off. He has already rescued Harry and is taking him to a safe place as we speak."

Tomas, Emma, Scrimgeour and Moody snapped around to stare at the Headmaster. "The child survived?" Rufus asked incredulously and a small smile appeared on Dumbledore's lips.

"Indeed."

"And You-Know-Who?" Emma asked, her voice trembling. "What about him?"

"I cannot be certain," Dumbledore said slowly, glancing up at the destroyed house as he breathed in deeply. He remembered the prophecy: _…And the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…_ "Something beyond our understanding has happened here tonight. There is magic in the air, old magic. But I believe that Voldemort is gone, at least for now. And I am sure that little Harry is the reason."

"The war is over?" Tomas breathed in disbelief, stunned. The other Aurors who were present at the sight, who happened to overhear the conversation, immediately began to whisper in interest and happiness.

"Let's go inside," the leader of the Order said, not answering Proudfoot's question, his expression grim. He was followed by Moody and Rufus into the damaged building, carefully stepping around the trail of dark blood. Reaching the living room, they found the source: James' motionless body, pale and bloodied. His face, covered in blood and bruises, would have been nearly unrecognisable if not for the signature Potter hair. His clothes were torn, his flesh ripped apart into such a gruesome sight it was unlikely it could ever be healed without at least some scarring.

One leg was bent at a strange angle, pieces of bone sticking out beneath a shattered kneecap. His left arm, too, was clearly broken, at the elbow, and the skin was covered in dark burns from some sort of curse. His right hand had been crushed, looking as though someone had stomped on it, destroying the fragile tendons and brittle bone fragments. His other leg would have looked perfectly fine if it hadn't been for the large tear in his thigh, stretching from knee to hip, revealing destroyed muscle and bone. His chest had been slashed open and was still bleeding badly, pieces from his ribs visible from beneath torn tissue.

"Oh, Merlin," Rufus sighed, slowly hunching down beside James' body. "What a mess..." He couldn't say he'd been close to the young man: he wasn't one of the Aurors in charge of the Auror Academy, and James had resigned before Scrimgeour was promoted to Head Auror, so they had never really gotten the chance to speak. Still, they had fought alongside each other on a couple of occasions, and of course, the Potters' heroics against Voldemort were well known, and had earned them Rufus' respect.

Looking around at the completely totalled sitting room, from the destroyed furniture to the scorched and cracked walls, and the damage leading into the kitchen and neighbouring room, Moody grunted: "Well, at least the lad put up a good fight. He didn't go quietly. I taught him well." He sounded impressed and not a little proud.

"He didn't _go_ at all," Rufus exclaimed, two fingers on James' neck.

Dumbledore's and Moody's heads whipped around to stare at him. _"What?"_ They both hissed incredulously, joining Rufus beside James.

"He's got a pulse, I'm sure of it," Scrimgeour insisted gruffly, gesturing at the Headmaster to check for himself. "It's faint, but it's there."

Kneeling down by James, Dumbledore placed his own fingers against James' neck. As he felt something, his heart jumped. Was it just wishful thinking, or...? No, there it was again – a weak, fluttering pulse against his fingers, just like Scrimgeour had said. Not wasting any more time, Dumbledore pulled out a lemon drop from his pocket, quickly turning it into an unauthorised portkey. Scrimgeour gave him a look of disapproval at the illegal action, but said nothing: this was hardly the right moment to criticise – or even bother with – such trivialities. Not on a night like this. "I'm taking him to St. Mungos." The next second, they were gone.

"I'll be damned," Moody whistled. "I guess I was right: Potters really are resilient." He ignored the weird look Rufus gave him. Scrimgeour hadn't been at the battle of Plymouth, which he was referring too. That time, James had been crushed by half a building, and yet he'd lived. And he'd survived many other times when the odds had been against him as well, including tonight. Moody only hoped the Healers at St. Mungo's could help him in time, but his injuries had been so severe...but at least there was a chance.

"Let's check upstairs." He was more hopeful now: both Harry and James were alive. Perhaps Lily had survived as well?

But it was not to be.

When they reached the torn apart nursery, they found Lily's body spread eagle on the floor, her red hair surrounding her like a burning halo. Her eyes were wide open, and the green irises that were known to be full of love, light, hope and laughter had been dulled. There was no mistaking the way she had died.

Moody's shoulders slumped as he closed Lily's eyes. "I was honoured to know you, girlie," he said gruffly. Rufus placed a hand on his shoulder, his eyes taking in the rest of the room.

Less than a foot in front of the strangely undamaged crib, the floor was covered in a smoking black stain. Rufus just barely was able to discern that amongst the spot where the crispy remains of burnt robes, the residual smell sickly and heavy with dark magic.

"Is that what's left of Voldemort?" Moody asked as he straightened up from Lily's body.

"What else could it be?" Rufus asked, shuddering slightly. "Let's hope he's gone forever. We'll let the Unspeakables deal with the...remnants," he said. "I don't dare to touch it, even with my wand. We should see how the other Aurors are faring with the investigation downstairs."

Moody snorted. "That's rather redundant, don't you think? Voldemort came, he saw, he conquered. And now, everyone's _celebrating _because he's gone, never mind that Lily and perhaps James are dead as well_._ It's disgusting, is what it is." But nonetheless, he stood, and followed his superior down the stairs, his heart heavy.

* * *

Once he arrived at St. Mungo's admittance area, luckily empty of people, with James, Dumbledore quickly walked up to a portrait of Dilys Derwent, a Healer who had also been Headmistress of Hogwarts once upon a time.

"Oh, my world!" The female portrait exclaimed silently. "Is that James Potter? I barely recognised him." Dilys had a corresponding portrait in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, which James had been in several times. "What happened?"

"Dilys," Dumbledore interrupted. "I need you to alert Healer Thompson and Lewis. Tell them to come here, without letting anyone else know why. Don't tell them either."

Dilys nodded and disappeared from her frame. A few seconds later, she returned. "They'll be here, Headmaster," she said. "Do you need anything else?"

"Not right this moment. But please, don't tell anyone about Mr. Potter. Not even other portraits."

Dilys nodded just as two pair of footsteps could be heard. "Dilys told us you wanted to see us," the male Healer, Thompson, said, and then stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of the bloodied figure on top of Dumbledore's hastily conjured stretcher. His companion paled.

"Do you have a private room?" Dumbledore asked. "He needs treatment immediately, if he is to survive."

The female Healer, Lewis, quickly nodded. "This way." The room wasn't far. Once they got inside, Dumbledore locked the door and pulled the curtains closed, while the Healers went to work on James' broken body, neither of them speaking.

"This is…" Healer Lewis was shaking her head. "Headmaster, I will be honest with you. This doesn't look good. I'm afraid we won't be able to save him…"

"Do your best." Dumbledore said. "I am sure I can trust in your discretion? Do not let anyone know of his presence here."

"It is James Potter, isn't it?" Healer Thompson asked. "I almost did not recognise him, at first. What happened to him?"

"Tonight, Voldemort attacked Godric's Hollow were James and Lily lived with their son, Harry. Voldemort is dead – " Healer Lewis gasped and Thompson blinked, though he did not stop working on stabilising James, "and so is Lily. Harry survived, however, and is unharmed, and I am hoping to add another survivor to that count. I don't want little Harry to become an orphan."

"It may be inevitable," Healer Thompson said grimly. "Elvira is right – this kind of extensive damage... His odds are not good."

"I understand. But do everything you can, please." Dumbledore sighed, wishing Fawkes hadn't recently had a burning day, or his tears could have helped. "I'm afraid I must leave – this day has barely begun, and my schedule is already fully packed."

The two Healers nodded. "Timothy and I got this, Headmaster," Healer Lewis assured him. "We'll won't stop until – " she abruptly paused. "We won't stop", she repeated.

Dumbledore nodded. "I will be back." And then, he was gone.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall stepped into the Three Broomsticks, looking forward to a relaxing cup of tea and conversation with Madam Rosmerta, who always knew all sorts of things about what was going on in the Wizarding World, before she went to bed. It was already very late, well past midnight, but as it did every year, the Halloween feast at Hogwarts had left her tense and unable to sleep. She blamed the marauders – it was the fault of their yearly Halloween pranks: even though it had been years since they graduated, she still hadn't been able to let go of the suspicion mixed with anticipation she felt before every Halloween feast. But, as troublesome as they had been, she could not deny they were still among her favourite students.

Frowning, she noticed the pub was full of people, while normally at this hour, there should only be stragglers. Everyone seemed to be gathered around the bar, laughing and toasting. Pushing herself through the crowd, Minerva finally caught sight of the barmaid.

"Rosmerta, what are you celebrating?" she asked.

"Oh, professor McGonagall!" Madam Rosmerta beamed at her, pressing a butterbeer into her hand. "Drink! It's on the house!"

Minerva threw her an exasperated look. "What is going on? What has happened?"

"Oh, you haven't heard?" Rosmerta looked surprised. "I was sure Dumbledore would have told you already… he was there with the Aurors, you see."

McGonagall's eyes widened in alarm. "The Aurors?"

"Yes," Rosmerta nodded, then touched the shoulder of one of the men sitting by the bar. "Oh, Andrew, you must tell the professor what you told me!"

"My brother saw it first hand, he did," the wizard called Andrew said. "He's a muggle and lives in Godric's Hollow and was there when it appeared – the house. Nearly completely destroyed, he said. One of the sides of the top floor – " he mimicked an explosion with his hands, "was just a large hole. It was the strangest thing, my brother said. He had no memory of this house, you see, until it appeared, and then he remember it had always been there."

"Sounds like the Fidelius charm," another bar patron said, nodding knowingly. "I read up on that spell for my Charms mastery. It's when you hide information you want to keep secret within a person, called the Secret-Keeper. Everyone who's not told the secret completely forgets whatever it is until the charm is broken."

Andrew nodded. "That makes sense. Like I said, my brother completely forgot the house and the Potters – "

" – The Potters?" Minerva exclaimed, aghast.

Andrew nodded. "Yes. They lived there for a long time, but everyone in the village forgot about it."

Minerva was pale. "You said the house was destroyed…"

"Oh, yeah." Andrew nodded. "There shouldn't have been any survivors, right? But then, so my brother tells me, a large man walks out of the house, carrying the Potter's little tyke, and he's completely unharmed, except for this scar on his forehead. The man took the babe with him and left on a flying motorcycle, and then some Aurors and the Headmaster came by –and then my brother heard them say that You-Know-Who was gone and it was all thanks to little Harry."

Minerva gasped, putting a hand against her mouth. "Gone? _Harry _defeated him?"

"That's why we're celebrating," Madam Rosmerta cut in. "Oh, it's tragic, of course, that Lily and James are dead – I remember them both so well – "

Minerva felt faint. "Lily and James are dead?"

Andrew was nodding. "Yep. But little Harry lived." He raised his glass. "To Harry Potter!" he hollered. "The Boy-Who-Lived!"

But even as the pub continued its celebrations, Minerva only felt grief, and she quickly excused herself, going back to Hogwarts and her quarters, where she planned to have herself a good cry. But when she reached the grounds, she saw the lights in Hagrid's cabin had been turned back on, and so she headed over there, seeing Hagrid sitting on his stairs, singing loudly and drunkenly.

"Hagrid! What are you doing? What has happened? I just heard the most terrible rumours – "

"Oh, p'fessor McGonagall!" Hagrid lit up.

"Where is Albus, Hagrid?" Minerva sighed.

Hagrid scratched his head. "Oh, he'll be at number 4, Privet Drive in Little Whinging, but not for hours yet. You see, he told me to - "

"Thank you, Hagrid," Minerva said curtly, and left. Hagrid stared after her a moment and then shrugged and stepped into his cabin, where little Harry Potter lay sleeping, nestled into Hagrid's large bed. "Not my fault she wouldn't wait," he told the sleeping baby and then, sank down into a chair, and also fell asleep, a half-full bottle of Whiskey dangling from one of his large hands.

* * *

Buffy was certain something was wrong. A few days ago, she had completely forgotten where Lily, James and Harry lived, though she could still remember what the inside of their house looked like. After asking Dumbledore what was going on, the Headmaster had explained the Fidelius charm to her and she had calmed down. But then, only a few hours ago, her memory of their address returned. Why had it returned?

Ever since then, she had desperately been trying to get in touch with Dumbledore, but he wasn't answering his floo, he wasn't answering the Patronus messages Remus began to send after Buffy explained what was going on – and what she feared had happened – but neither of them got a response. Their worry rising, they had then tried to get hold of Sirius, to no avail. Then Peter – not at home. Knowing that Lily and James must have used one of them as Secret-Keeper, Remus and Buffy began to panic.

Now, Buffy was pacing across the living room worriedly, while Remus sat nervously on their sofa, staring at his hands numbly. The sun was up, but neither of them had noticed it rising.

"I don't want to believe they're dead," Buffy muttered to herself. "There is some kind of rational explanation to all of this... there has to be."

"Of course they're not dead," Remus said, forcing his voice to sound reasonable. "They probably only had to move locations, to a house no one's heard about."

Buffy nodded. "You're right. That's logical. I mean – "

Both their heads snapped up as their fireplace flared up and Dumbledore stepped into the room, his face tired and haggard.

"Oh, thank Merlin." Remus let out a sigh of relief. "You got our messages? Lily and James are fine, right?"

Dumbledore wasn't looking at them and Buffy felt her heart sink down to the bottom of her stomach.

"I have called an Order meeting," the Headmaster said quietly. "I would rather only say this once."

"Damn it, Dumbledore," Buffy snapped. "If something's happened to our friends, Remus and I deserve to know first! I – "

She was once again interrupted, as the remains of the Order began to appear through their fireplace, one by one, all of them looking worried. Except for the Potters, Sirius and Peter, everyone except the Longbottoms, McGonagall, Moody and Eliza were present. Even Mundungus Fletcher and Aberforth were there, something that rarely happened. Once they were all seated, Aberforth gruffly spoke up: "Are the rumours I heard in Hogsmeade true? He's dead? For real?"

"What are you talking about, Aberforth?" Emmeline asked, yawning.

"Yes, Abe," Dumbledore nodded at his brother. "Voldemort is, for all intents and purposes, dead."

Everyone was suddenly wide awake.

"He's gone?" Dedalus Diggle exclaimed, his eyes widening and he literally began to tremble with joy and excitement. "How?"

Phillip Galloway closed his eyes, and then, smiled. Finally, his Slayer had been avenged. The Slayer line was back on track. A new Slayer must have been called. Of course, he wouldn't train him – he wouldn't want to even if the Council asked – but a new Slayer meant that Joshua's legacy had been freed, no longer trapped like a perverted version of itself inside the monster that had stolen it from him, but instead, it had now been passed on to someone worthy.

"It is a bit of a mystery, I admit," Dumbledore said. "But it all comes down to one person: Harry Potter."

The Order stared at him. _"Harry _Potter?" Caradoc looked at the Headmaster as though she was quite afraid he'd lost his mind. "I know you're getting old, Dumbledore, but to confuse the son with his father – "

" - I said Harry Potter because I meant Harry Potter," Dumbledore interrupted tiredly. "And I highly suspect Lily Potter may have had a part to play as well."

"I don't understand." Emmeline looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"What about James?" Remus wanted to know. "And are Lily and Harry alright?"

"A few hours ago, Voldemort came to Lily and James home in Godric's Hollow," Dumbledore began to explain. "James was killed, though to his great credit, not without putting up a very good fight." Buffy stared uncomprehendingly. Remus let out a choked noise, burying his face in his hands as the rest of the Order gasped. "Then, Voldemort moved upstairs, and killed Lily." More gasps. Remus' shoulders began to shake. Buffy closed her eyes. "He then turned his wand on little Harry – the killing curse was spoken – but somehow, it must have rebounded and hit Voldemort instead." The Headmaster's eyes shone with both grief and joy.

If the shock to the Order had been big before, it was even more so now. Stunned silence met Dumbledore's tale. For surely, it must be a tale?

"Somehow, that little boy did the impossible," Dumbledore continued. "He was hit with the killing curse and _lived_ – the only mark left on him is a scar."

Buffy was forcing herself to push her shock and grief away, to not fall apart, and instead focus on what Dumbledore was saying – or rather, what he wasn't saying. She knew the prophecy. She knew it word by word. Dumbledore had omitted to tell the Order _why _Voldemort had tried to kill Harry. But Buffy already knew why.

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ..._ _and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…__ the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._

A prophecy had been fulfilled tonight. Or at least the first part. She knew prophecies. She had been at the receiving end of one herself. If what Dumbledore said was true, Voldemort had _not_ died at Harry's hand tonight – he had died at his own. Only one part had been fulfilled. She didn't put much stock in prophecy, but she had to wonder what this meant.

Was this prophecy, like many others, now null and void, to be put back on the shelf until another equal opportunity arouse in the future, between some other boy and another Dark Lord? Or was this a prophecy, also like many others, that would _somehow_ be fulfilled word for word? If that was the case – and Buffy suspected it was, because destiny had always been a bitch – Voldemort wasn't really dead. Just temporarily defeated. It wasn't like coming back to life was that hard, at least not in the world she lived. She saw it every day, with vampires. Angel had even returned from hell. She herself had been resurrected.

Exchanging looks with Dumbledore, and saw his discreet nod, she knew then that Headmaster had also realised what she had – perhaps, by his wording of what had happened, he had even been trying to let her know, albeit in a roundabout way. After all, he was aware that she knew of the prophecy.

"How did You-Know-Who find them?" Sturgis question broke Buffy out of her thoughts. This was one answer she both needed and dreaded to hear.

"Under my advisement, Lily and James agreed to go into hiding with their son under a charm called the Fidelius. To make a long story short, you hide information within a Secret-Keeper, who is then the only person who can reveal that information."

"I suppose the Potter's address was the information?" Elphias Doge asked in his wheezy voice.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. And Sirius Black was the Secret-Keeper."

"No!" Remus exclaimed, standing up. Tears were brimming in his eyes, and he didn't care. "I can't handle more bad news, Dumbledore. Don't tell me that Sirius is dead too, because I don't think I can bear it – "

But even as Dumbledore interrupted by shaking his head Remus, Buffy's heart sank even further. She remembered what Dumbledore had told her about the charm, something she had not told Remus when she gave him an explanation earlier in haste: _'The Secret-Keeper is the only one who can reveal the secret...and it has to be voluntary..._ _If the Secret-Keeper dies, the secret dies with him...'_

Like Remus, Buffy didn't think she could handle any more bad news...but unlike him, she had the bad luck of being able to figure out the news before they were said out loud. If Sirius was dead, then he had been tortured to death...but not before revealing Lily and James' location. And if he wasn't dead...then he was the traitor in the Order.

" – He's not dead," Dumbledore said heavily. "He's very much alive. And on free foot."

Buffy closed her eyes as her worst fears were realised. Remus, on the other hand, simply stared at the Headmaster. "Free foot...?" He asked, not understanding – or wanting to understand – what Dumbledore was saying. Why would he word it like that? "You're making it sound like he's a criminal at large." He let out a little laugh, but no one laughed with him. Not even Caradoc made any snarky comments. Instead, they looked at him with pity, as realisation slowly rose.

"He...sold them out?" Emmeline asked quietly, her hand pressed against her mouth. _"Sirius_ sold them out?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Well...so much for friendship," Mundungus quipped drunkenly and everyone threw him glares of death. Everyone except Remus, who walked up to him and punched him in the face. The crook dropped like stone, clutching his face and howling with pain.

"_Get out."_ He hissed, his eyes flashing amber. "All of you!" He told the rest of the Order and they flinched back a little, in shock and surprise. None of them had ever seen Remus lose his temper, and suddenly, they were all very aware that 'good' or not, 'on their side' or not, they were standing in the room with a werewolf.

"Yes, I believe it's time we all left," Dumbledore said in an attempt to salvage the situation somewhat diplomatically. "People are already celebrating - I imagine some of you may want to join the festivities and help spread the news. I myself will head to the _Daily Prophet,_ so they can get the story out as soon as possible, before the rumour-mill has twisted it beyond repair."

If it hadn't been for Buffy's restraining arm on his shoulder, Remus thought he might have launched himself forward to punch the Headmaster as well. _Celebrate?_ _Spread the news? _The_ Daily Prophet?_ Had the man no heart at all?

Dung was the first to leave, still clutching his nose, and too slowly for Remus and Buffy's liking, the room began to empty as the rest of the Order filed out – a couple of them, like Diggle, even looking positively _cheery_ – clearly, Lily and James' deaths hadn't affected him much. At last, only Dumbledore remained. "Buffy, Remus, I am terribly sorry for your loss. I know how much this must hurt you – "

" – You really have no clue," Remus interrupted harshly, and then left the room, slamming the door to his and Buffy's bedroom closed behind him.

Buffy winced, feeling his grief and anger and shock and disbelief and pain and sadness and betrayal and heartache like it was her own, blending in with her own feelings so well that she felt faint and she had to sit down. Her stomach churned uncomfortably.

"What will happen to Harry?" She asked Dumbledore quietly. "Who will take care of him?"

"I have left him with good people, I promise you."

Buffy nodded, accepting it for now, because she was so _tired _and she felt_ sick _and she just wanted to curl up against Remus and ask him to hold her and to never let go. But she would ask for more details later.

"Let me know if there's anything you need," Dumbledore said.

"Let us know when you find Sirius or Peter," was all Buffy said in response.

Dumbledore nodded, frowning. "Yes, I was quite concerned when I could not reach young Pettigrew. But I suppose it's possible he might already have heard the news and is grieving in his own way."

"I guess," Buffy muttered, frowning slightly as a sudden thought entered her head and refused to leave her: what if Sirius _hadn't_ been the Secret-Keeper? What if he'd been some sort of decoy, in some intricate plan that would be just like him and James to cook up? What if _Peter_ had been the Secret-Keeper? Perhaps _Peter_ was the real traitor. She felt guilty for hoping it, but she couldn't help it. She just couldn't imagine _Sirius_ betraying people who, when it all came down to it, were his family. Before Buffy could mention this possibility to Dumbledore, the Headmaster apparated away with a swish of his robes.

* * *

After his meeting with the Order, Dumbledore went to the _Daily Prophet,_ which had just opened. It had been too late to get the story out with the morning edition, which had already finished printing, the editor had said, but excitedly promised to get it out with a special evening edition which would be entirely dedicated to the story of Voldemort's fall and, the Boy-Who-Lived.

Then, he spent a few hours at the Ministry, where he told Amelia Bones and several Ministry officials of his theory regarding what happened at Godric's Hollow – it was accepted as truth, luckily enough. The Unspeakables, who had gone to the scene after Dumbledore had left, even said that based on the evidence in the nursery, it was the most workable theory they had.

He was told by Alastor that Lily's body had been removed from the scene and taken to St. Mungo's, where it would remain until a funeral could be arranged. After being asked about James' missing body by those who had not been in the house when his survival had been discovered, Dumbledore had 'admitted' that upon discovering his body, they'd felt a pulse, but when they got him to St. Mungo's, the Healers on call were forced to declare him officially dead after only a few minutes of examination.

Deciding it was high time he returned to the hospital, Dumbledore apparated directly into the hospital room he had left several hours ago. Frowning slightly, he saw that both Healers had stopped working and was now only sitting in a chair each, next to the hospital bed James had been placed in. To his relief, Dumbledore saw the man's chest was rising and falling.

"We did what you asked, Dumbledore, and as you can see he lives," Healer Thompson said, his face drained of all colour. Both Healers looked like they hadn't slept in over a week, and they seemed to have been drained of all energy, magical as well as physical.

"I'm still amazed," Healer Lewis said. "Luckily, his heart didn't stop – if it had, there's no way we would have been able to revive him."

"When will he wake?" Dumbledore said, feeling quite guilty for telling the Order and the _Daily Prophet_ that James had died, now when it was apparent he had lived. But it had been a necessary precaution, and at least it would be a pleasant surprise.

The Healers exchanged looks, and to Dumbledore, it looked like they were having a silent argument. Finally, Healer Thompson sighed. "He probably won't," admitted reluctantly. "We did everything we could, but the damage..." He sighed again. "In the end, our efforts just weren't enough. We healed his injuries to the best of our abilities but there's still only so much a body can take... We were forced to put him into a magical healing coma, as a last resort, rather than have it happen to him automatically. And it would have, if he hadn't just died outright - it's the body's last defence. But if that happens, it rarely takes long before the patient's body shuts down permanently. But by inducing the coma ourselves there is still a small chance that he will eventually wake up...but if I'm to be honest, I believe only divine intervention would make that happen."

"Thompson's right," Healer Lewis said. "When we usually put our patients into such comas, it's a last desperate attempt at the behest of their relatives to save their lives. But it never works. In the history of St. Mungo's, one patient woke up, and he died a week later from a blood clot in his brain, and that week wasn't a high quality life. He was...essentially, he was a vegetable."

"What happened to those who didn't wake?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes fastened on James' still form.

"Either the relatives finally gave up and we took them out of the coma, at which point they suffered heart-failure and died... Or they died within the coma, the only positive thing being that it was painless," Healer Thompson said grimly.

Dumbledore's face noticeably fell.

"We're very sorry," Healer Lewis said quietly. "What...what do you want us to do? We weren't even certain if we should put him in the healing coma, or just let nature take its course, but you _did_ ask us to do everything..." The female Healer looked rather distressed. Dumbledore couldn't blame her. After doing everything to save James, it was like it still hadn't been enough.

Dumbledore said nothing. Instead, he conjured a chair of his own – a rather fluffy creation – and sat down, closing his eyes and holding an inner debate with himself and going over the events of the night, losing himself in his own thoughts. Every now and then, he would open his eyes and look at James, but he would soon close them again.

Hours passed. He didn't notice the two Healers leave to get dinner, or to briefly check on other patients. Finally, he let out a deep sigh and the two Healers exchanged new looks, both of them only running on Pepper-Up potion by this point, they were so exhausted. They'd been quite annoyed at the Headmaster for zoning out on them before giving them an answer, but they also knew how eccentric the man could be, and either way, they could be considered trusted friends (albeit rather young – he'd been Headmaster when they went to school) of his so they did not complain.

"I will not give up," Dumbledore declared as he opened his eyes. "Leave James in the coma. Do not tell anyone of his survival. Lie and say he died soon after his arrival here. If it gets out that he is still alive, I am afraid the Death Eaters who remain will target him in an attempt to finish the job. He is no state to defend himself and it is safest if he remains 'dead,' especially, if, as you say, it is unlikely he will wake up. I do not want to give the public false hope. What we all need is to move on and put this war behind us and build a better future."

"But what will we do with him?" Healer Lewis cried out. "He can't stay in St. Mungo's forever! People will notice him! And in either case, people will expect a body for his funeral, and we don't have one!"

"Of course he will not stay at St. Mungo's," Dumbledore soothed. "I will take him to Potter manor, where there is no chance of anyone finding him. You two will resign with the excuse that the guilt from James Potter dying under your watch was too much to take, and then take care of him there. I will make sure you are given access to the manor and that the two house-elves there give you the aid you need." The two Healers gawked at him. "You will be generously compensated, of course," the Headmaster added.

Healers Thompson and Lewis exchanged looks again. "Alright," Healer Thompson finally said. "If you believe that's the best course of action, we will, of course trust you and do as you say. But that only solves one problem. We still have no body - "

He abruptly shut his mouth as Dumbledore began to wave his wand in the air, above the second, empty bed in the room, and slowly, a form took shape. The Healers watched, both awed and slightly disturbed, as they realised the figure was that of James Potter, looking just as he had when he arrived at the hospital, identical down to every last injury. When he was finished, Dumbledore was sweating.

"It won't hold up to close inspection," the man admitted. "Realistic golems are incredibly hard to make. But if someone just checks for life signs with their wand, they should notice nothing amiss. His skin should feel like skin, albeit that of a corpse, his clothes like real clothes and the blood like real blood. It will last long enough for it to get buried."

He conjured another portkey. "After you've resigned and finished matters up here – I expect the news will want a detailed list of the injuries that lead to James' 'death' - come to Hogwarts, and I will take you to Potter manor." And then, holding onto James' real body, the Headmaster activated the portkey and they disappeared from the room.

* * *

Upon arriving on Jersey, making sure his landing with the portkey was in _front_ of the wards of Potter manor and not inside them, Dumbledore quickly pulled out his wand and began to analyse the layers of protections. Around him, night was falling.

He frowned as he realised the wards were very thorough – it would be possible to break through them, but it would take a long time, and it was not the job a single wizard could do – even if that wizard was Albus Dumbledore.

After thinking for a minute, Dumbledore spoke: "Toby and Saffy," he said softly, addressing the Potter house-elves and hoping they would respond, "your master needs you."

To his relief and surprise, two pops were heard and both Potter elves appeared, both of them immaculately dressed in their 'uniforms', but they were wrinkled and he saw both elves had been crying.

"You summoned Toby and Saffy?" Toby asked sadly, his ears drooping.

Saffy burst into renewed tears. "We felt our bond with mistress Lily break!" She wailed. "Where is our master? And little master?"

"Your master is right here," Dumbledore said, moving aside so they could see James. This time, both elves began to cry, but this time, they were tears of joy. "Master James!" Saffy sobbed. "Master James is home!"

"Yes," Dumbledore said sadly. "But he is very ill and he needs to be taken care of. Can I trust you to do that?"

"Of course!" Toby said, his oversized eyes blazing fiercely and Saffy was nodding in determination. They might be house-elves, but they were _Potter_ house-elves and possessed the same spirit James – and all Potters before him – had. "We always take care of master!"

"But you will need help. Not even your house-elf magic will be enough to cure him," Dumbledore cautioned. "But combined with a wizard's magic, it might."

Toby frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I will send two of my friends here, and they will have to live with you in the manor to help take care of him. They are Healers. Can I trust you to get them everything they need so they can help your master?"

"Live in the manor?" Saffy's voice trembled with horror and indignation. "But only Potters live in the manor!"

"Yes, but you want your master to live, don't you?" Dumbledore asked them. "James would not mind."

Toby and Saffy seemed to have a silent conversation. "Alright," Toby finally said. "They may come. Take them here and we will take them past the wards and into the manor. But no one else!" He added sternly.

Dumbledore blinked. "Not even me? But surely – "

But both house-elves were shaking their heads adamantly. "Not even you," Toby said, and then, he snapped his fingers and they – and James – were gone, leaving Dumbledore standing alone, in the middle of nowhere. Kind of bewildered, exasperated and amused all at once, Dumbledore let out a deep sigh. At least James was in both good and caring hands – his house-elves would do everything to help their master.

Now, it was time for his last, and arguably the most important, piece of business, before he could return to Hogwarts. Fingering the letter in his pocket, addressed to Petunia Evans – now Dursley – and written in haste once he realised what had happened and what needed to be done, he soundlessly apparated away, focusing on a very specific street in Little Whinging, Surrey, wondering what kind of person little Harry Potter would grow up to be.

* * *

Hogwarts was abuzz with rumours – had been, since early that morning, in fact, and Amanda Lorne was one of many people who did not know what to believe, and she felt quite bewildered as she sat down for dinner. Around her, the students only talked about one thing: news they had gotten from relatives throughout the day all said You-Know-Who was dead. Rory Rogers, Beater on her Quidditch Team for Gryffindor, gave her a small smile as he joined her.

"Do you know if it's true? The rumours? That You-Know-Who is dead?" Rory asked.

Amanda could only shrug in response. She had no Wizarding relatives left, since her parents were killed in her third year, so unlike many of her peers, she had gotten no letters that could confirm or deny the news. "I don't know." She bit her lip. She hoped the war was over...but with the rumours about You-Know-Who's demise were also rumours of the Potter's demise, and she desperately hoped they were wrong. She knew them from when they went at school, James especially: she had even_ seen_ them, less than a month ago, when the Basilisk attacked Hogwarts.

"There's got to be_ some _truth to them, at least," Rory continued, undeterred by her lack of response. "I mean, the professors refuse to answer any questions, and Dumbledore and professor McGonagall haven't been seen all day!"

"Neither has Snape," Amanda said absently, looking up at the staff-table. The bad-tempered Potions professor was noticeably absent. Her eyes widened as she spotted a massive amount of owls flying into the hall, all of them carrying newspapers. She supposed the _Daily Prophet_ must have decided to put out an extra, special edition regarding whatever was going on. "I suppose we'll get our answers now," she added as an owl dropped a copy of the newspaper in front of her, and only her quick reflexes saved it from landing in her mashed potatoes. As she saw the headline, she paled.

HALLOWEEN MIRACLE! – YOU-KNOW-WHO DEFEATED ON 31 OCTOBER!  
KILLS LILY AND JAMES POTTER BUT FAILS TO KILL HARRY POTTER!  
LONG LIVE THE BOY WHO LIVED!

The story – stories, really, because the entire newspaper was littered with them – that followed were fanciful, heartbreaking and wonderful all at once. And the truth – something that could not always be relied on from the _Daily Prophet_ - seemed to echo from it. Dumbledore and his theory on how little Harry managed to bring about the end of the war was quoted a lot. It seemed You-Know-Who really _was_ dead...and so were James and Lily...but when You-Know-Who had tried to kill their son, Harry, his killing curse had somehow _rebounded_ and struck him instead, leaving Harry only with a scar on his forehead in the form of a lightning-bolt and the moniker the Boy-Who-Lived.

Still in shock, Amanda lowered the paper. Glancing down the Gryffindor table, she saw her fellow students were alternating between laughing and crying. James' 'fanclub' was mostly crying, but even they were laughing a little. The war was over after all. And James had gone out with a bang, not a whimper, Amanda thought, as she remembered another headline from the newspaper: JAMES POTTER'S LAST STAND!

The article that followed went into rather distressing description – at least for those who knew James - on what they thought his last battle with the self-named Dark Lord had been like, based on various analyses from Aurors and Unspeakables, who had examined the wreckage of Godric's Hollow. It was described in rather disturbing detail – there was even a list on the injuries found on James' body after his death. She took a deep breath, deciding that her old Quidditch captain wouldn't have wanted to go out in any other way. You-Know-Who was dead. At least that was something.

In the newspaper, Unspeakables were also analysing Harry's miraculous survival, reflecting over how it may have happened. The _Prophet_ had, however angled it, so that little Harry was made out to be a hero with fantastic powers that hadn't been seen since the age of Merlin. He was described down to great detail: the newspaper reported that he looked a lot like his father already and would surely grow up to be some sort of carbon-copy – but with his mother's eyes. And, of course, a scar on his forehead, proof of his miraculous survival and You-Know-Who's defeat.

Several pages were dedicated to You-Know-Who's realm of terror, and the casualties that could be laid at his or his Death Eaters' feet: there, the names of Amanda's parents were listed. Another article was dedicated to Lily Potter, and her sacrifice for her son, how she had been found dead, in front of the crib, bravely defending her baby from You-Know-Who to her last breath. Entire pages were dedicated to both James and Lily, their history, from their childhood (not much was said about Lily's, though), their schooldays, including their OWL and NEWT results, their adulthood, and most emphasised, their confrontations with You-Know-Who prior to Halloween.

31 October, 1981 would go down into history and memory...and so would Harry Potter.

Just as Amanda finished a section that explained the Fidelius charm and got the shock of her life when she reached the row that said a manhunt was now going on for Sirius Black, who had been the Potter's Secret-Keeper and must have voluntarily betrayed their location to You-Know-Who, professor McGonagall and Dumbledore stepped into the Great Hall, which immediately silenced.

The two walked up to the staff table but only professor McGonagall sat down. The Headmaster remained standing. "I am certain you have all read the evening edition of the _Daily Prophet_ by now," he began. "And the news are true. You-Know-Who is dead – the war is over."

The Great Hall exploded into a cacophony of noise and chaos and happiness. Dumbledore raised his hand for silence. "But we must not forget the sacrifice that ended it."

Amanda lowered her head solemnly. Rory squeezed her hand, knowing partly how she was feeling. James had been his Quidditch Captain too, but only for one year, not two, and Rory had only been a reserve that year. He'd only gotten a chance to play in one game - but he still remembered that game very well.

Dumbledore held up his glass. "We owe a lot to James and Lily Potter, and we should live like they did. Hopefully, lovingly and with no fear of darkness. Remember them."

Amanda felt a single tear slip down her cheek.

"Let us also remember_ the reason _not to fear the darkness. Light. Let us honour Harry Potter, the unexpected, unexplainable light who banished the dark and survived the impossible. To Harry Potter – " Dumbledore raised his glass high – "the Boy Who Lived!"

"To Harry Potter," Amanda and the rest of the students and staff, raising their own glasses, not without tears, "the Boy Who Lived!"

* * *

**2 November**

Privet Drive in little Whinging, Surrey, was normally a rather calm street, but not this morning, it would turn out. Petunia Dursley, dressed in her nightgown, still felt slightly put out and annoyed by her husband's mention of her sister and her husband yesterday evening, even if it had been brief. Really! The less said about them and their son, the better. She and Vernon had Dudley to focus on now, and a nice, normal life that did not need to be intruded on by_ freaky_ business, or anything that reminded her of it.

Unfortunately, Petunia's life was about to take a decidedly _freaky_ turn, at least by her standards, and it all began as she opened the door to put out the milkbottles and nearly stumbled upon a small figure wrapped in blankets. She screamed. Loudly. The baby woke, and also began to scream, almost as loudly. And so it was the calm on Privet Drive that morning ended. People in the neighbouring houses all peeked out their windows and doors to see what the commotion was all about and Vernon Dursley quickly exited his house to see what had distressed his wife so, and the few people still asleep were abruptly woken at his loud bellow of shock and surprise.

"Pet! What is..._that?!"_ Vernon exclaimed and Petunia pursed her lips, and reluctantly picked up the blanketed bundle, from which cries could still be heard.

"It seems to be a baby, Vernon dear," she said dryly and not at all amused. She wrinkled her nose as she caught sight of the rather ugly scar on the baby's forehead, but began to rock it, in hopes it would stop that infernal noise.

"Well!" Vernon huffed. "Why would someone put it on _our_ doorstep? We already have a baby of our own! We don't need another!"

"I have no intention of keeping this child, Vernon," Petunia sighed, frowning a bit as she caught sight of the letter the baby was clutching and taking it from him. This only increased his cries. "You can take it down to the police station after breakfast."

Decisively, she stepped into the house, absently opening the envelope the baby had had in his hand and took up the letter and began to read. Abruptly, her face paled and she nearly dropped the baby, which let out a loud hiccup, and then started crying again, albeit quieter. "Vernon..." she whispered. "It's..."

"What?" Vernon said gruffly, not at all happy he hadn't yet gotten to eat his bacon and eggs. His morning routine had been completely disturbed. He hadn't even read the morning paper yet!

"It's my sister's baby," Petunia said, faintly sitting down in her chair. Vernon stared. She swallowed. "You were right yesterday," she said. "Something _was_ going on. My – my sister is dead." Her voice wavered slightly. "And so is her husband."

"Good riddance," Vernon said.

Petunia's lips pursed again. "I may not have liked her but I did not want my sister dead," she said. "Especially since it means that you and I are now saddled with her son."

Vernon, who had just picked up his fork, dropped it. "We are _what?"_

"We have to take him in, Vernon," Petunia sighed. "It's...well, it's...complicated," she finally said. "But he needs a home and..." She sighed again, glancing at the letter – oh, that accursed letter!

"He can get a home somewhere else!" Vernon spluttered.

For a moment, Petunia's eyes narrowed. "No. He can't. And that's final, Vernon." Her husband looked properly cowed. He might be a lot bigger, he might be the one who brought money into the household, but Petunia was the one who ruled their marriage and they both knew it. "We will raise him, and that is that. But I will not let him take attention away from my little Dudders! We can clean out the cupboard under the stairs, and he can stay there. The less we see of him the better. Especially once he starts doing..._freaky _things," she hissed, shuddering.

"Very well, Pet, as you wish," Vernon sighed. "But I don't like the idea of wasting money on him –"

" – Only what's necessary," Petunia agreed with a firm nod. "He can have Dudder's hand-me-downs, and his old toys. He's not _our _child, after all."

Satisfied with his wife's response, Vernon agreed.

It was decided: Harry Potter was given a home on number 4, Privet Drive. It was reluctantly given, but it _was_ given, and so, because of his mother's sacrifice, a protective charm on Harry and the house was raised. Petunia and Vernon Dursley did not like him, and as he settled into his new 'home', Harry came to the conclusion he did not much like them either. He definitely did not like his new cousin, Harry decided, when the fat boy began to prod and pinch him.

Harry did not like his new sleeping space, and he missed his cuddly toys and his cat and his flying broomstick...but most of all, he missed his mommy and his daddy who hadn't come to kiss him goodnight in _forever._ And so it was, Harry Potter cried himself to sleep in several nights in a row, without being comforted and instead being yelled at for making too much noise, finding relief only in his dreams, where his mommy smiled and his daddy laughed and he was flying on a giant motorcycle...

* * *

_**Published: **02/12 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- We learnt that Hagrid is the one who told McGonagall that Dumbledore would be at Privet Drive, and yet, she did not know Hagrid was bringing Harry. Therefore, since Harry must have been with Hagrid when this conversation occurred, I simply had McGonagall not see him. If she'd waited, Hagrid would have finished his sentence with: "You see, he told me to bring little Harry there later."

- Since Hagrid does not arrive with Harry to Privet Drive until 'nearly midnight,' and Dumbledore only right before, Dumbledore must have told Hagrid not to bring Harry until then. Therefore, Hagrid must have been elsewhere with Harry during the day. I'm also sure he told Hagrid to keep Harry safe, meaning Hagrid couldn't be at a bar somewhere, even if this would have led to the rumours being spread even faster. Therefore, I had him take Harry back to his cabin, since Hogwarts is 'the safest place in Britain' but still get a little drunk in sorrow for Lily and James' deaths and in celebration of Voldemort's.

- By the time McGonagall gets to Privet Drive, somewhere before 8:30 when Vernon Dursley heads to work, it seems like most of the W. World knows about Harry and Voldemort's 'death.' As such, someone must have spread the first rumour, and since Godric's Hollow is mostly populated by muggles, I needed a muggle to have a Wizarding Relative who spreads the rumour at the Three Broomsticks where it all begins. We might expect Bathilda Bagshot, considering how much she likes gossip, might have said something, but since she was good friends with the Potters, I find this somewhat unlikely. With several Aurors at the scene, besides Emma, Tomas, Moody and Scrimgeour, it is also likely people within the Ministry and all their contacts would soon have been told, spreading more rumours.

- It is a mystery what was going on on November 1, after Hagrid leaves with Harry from Godric's Hollow, but before he arrives with him to Privet Drive late that evening. We now know that in my story Hagrid was in his cabin with Harry. And I also had Dumbledore do his errands to pass the time. By telling the Order, more people learn the news and can spread them on. By telling the _Daily Prophet,_ they get the story as Dumbledore sees it, and the Headmaster can add and not add whatever he wants about Voldemort's fall. After all, everyone in the Wizarding World knew _exactly _what happened that Halloween, by the time Harry comes to Hogwarts, in agreement of one version. It's only logical that this version would be Dumbledore's, via the _Daily prophet. _I have him at the Ministry, to tell the 'true' story one more time and to get updated on what's going on from their end. And finally, we have him at the hospital, with James, were hours go by. Who knows what the man was up to during this time in canon.

- In canon, we learn that they were celebrating in Kent – with shooting stars - which McGonagall believes is due to Diggle. That's why I had Diggle be cheery as he left Buffy and Remus, who, fittingly enough, actually lives in Kent.

- From Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, we know that November 1, for Vernon Dursley, was a day filled with owls and strange people celebrating on the street, and that while he suspected it had something to do with Petunia's sister's world, she refused to so much thinking of it...until she opens the door to get the milk and finds Harry, and Dumbledore's letter, which prompts her to reluctantly take him in. The dream Harry has of flying on a motorcycle is obviously him remembering Hagrid taking him from Godric's Hollow/to Privet Drive. It is also the dream he mentions to the Dursleys in chapter two, thus bringing this chapter neatly in line with the happenings of book one.


	28. Vows

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

Severus Snape had not left his chambers since he heard _the news_ in passing from a Ravenclaw student who was shouting it all over the castle. He didn't want to believe it, not even when the proof was right there, branded into his arm.

Late on October 31, his Dark Mark began to sear with pain that nearly made him pass out – and then, it stopped, and began to fade. Severus had stared in disbelief. His first reaction had been joy – but then, fear began to set in as he remembered the prophecy. Whatever had just happened, it had somehow involved Harry Potter...which meant it must also have involved his mother.

He had immediately left his chamber in search of Dumbledore, but he was nowhere to be found. And then, morning came and that blasted Ravenclaw student began to wave a letter about, yelling for everyone to hear that YOU-KNOW-WHO had died after killing the Potters. Severus had fled back to his dungeons, putting up a note on his classroom door that informed the students that his lessons were cancelled for the foreseeable future – and then began drown himself in a bottle.

_It had all been for nothing. _

Only when a portrait told him that Dumbledore had returned, did Severus get up from his chair and began the walk to the Headmaster's office on trembling, stumbling legs, his normally firm, graceful stride obliterated by alcohol and grief. The walk had never felt so long. Without knocking, he entered the man's office, slumping down into a chair in front of his desk.

Dumbledore said nothing, his face grim. After a moment or two, Snape raised his head, his face haggard with grief. He felt like he had lived a hundred years of misery. "I thought ... you were going ... to keep her ... safe," he croaked out, each word taking a long time to form.

"She and James put their faith in the wrong person," Dumbledore sighed. "Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?" Severus' breathing was shallow. He was certain his heart would stop soon – it was a miracle it hadn't already. Fury at the situation, fury at the Dark Lord, fury at the Headmaster, fury at _everything _filled him. "Her boy survives." Severus' head jerked slightly, the twitch barely noticeable. "Her son lives," Dumbledore continued, undeterred and unmerciful. "He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and colour of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?"

The fury Severus had held back escaped him in one loud bellow, mixed together with his heartache. "DON'T!" He squeezed his eyes shut. "Gone ... Dead ..."

"Is this remorse, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, his voice low.

"I wish ... I wish_ I_ were dead ..." Severus swallowed.

"And what use would that be to anyone?" the Headmaster's voice was cold. "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

Severus blinked slowly, Dumbledore's words taking a long time to pierce through the haze of pain he was feeling. Finally, his brain caught up with the Headmaster's statement, but he still did not understand. "What — what do you mean?"

"You know how and why she died," Dumbledore said harshly. "Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."

Severus shook his head. What did he care about her son? "He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone — "

"The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does," Dumbledore interrupted and then fell silent, waiting for the Potions professor to respond.

Slowly, Severus began to regain some resemblance of control and sat up his straighter in the chair, taking a deep, shuddering breath. _'For Lily,' _he thought as his breathing evened out. _'It's all for her...because it's what she would want...'_

He licked his dry lips. Finally, he spoke: "Very well. Very well. But never - never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear ... especially Potter's son ... I want your word!"

Dumbledore looked down into Severus' ferocious, anguished face, meeting his black eyes squarely. "My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" He sighed."If you insist..."

"I do insist," Severus said, standing.

"Very well." The Headmaster sighed again. "Then, you have my word."

Severus' nodded sharply. "Make sure you _keep it,_ this time," he whispered harshly, and then exited the office in a swivel of black robes.

* * *

Sirius was a man on a mission. Some would say a mad man on a mission, and Sirius would not have cared. Using every bit of the knowledge he'd learnt at the Auror Academy, Sirius slowly and methodically tracked Peter down, his mind on one thing only: revenge. The morning of November 1 turned into evening, evening turned into night, and then, morning again, but Sirius was completely aware of the time passing. He was completely unaware that, even as he hunted Peter, Aurors were hunting him.

Luck seemed to finally go Sirius' way, when the marauder spotted Peter standing in the middle of the street he was just about to pass. Around him, the city bustled with life as the muggles went about their daily business, but Sirius only had eyes for Peter.

The man looked nervous and had a hard grip on his wand, his eyes darting everywhere. _'And he should be nervous,'_ Sirius thought as he stepped out of the shadows and into view, his own wand raised.

Peter's eyes widened and Sirius smiled maliciously. "Hello, Peter," he murmured.

Then, something unexpected happened. Rather than try to explain himself, or beg for forgiveness or mercy or even run away, Peter's fearful expression disappeared. Instead, his face scrunched up in sadness and determination and he began to run straight towards him. Before Sirius could realise what was happening, Peter began to shout: "Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?"

Still shocked by Peter's out-of-character behaviour, it took awhile for Sirius to register Peter's words, and even longer for him to realise his former friend's intentions – and by then it was too late. Peter had already _cut off one of his own fingers_, his wand held behind his back – and then, the street behind them exploded in sound and light, and Peter was gone, having transformed into a rat and scurried into the sewers. Sirius could only watch in disbelief. A huge smoking crater which was still burning in places could be seen in front of where he now stood, alone, stretching across the street and so deep it cracked the sewer below. Dead bodies were everywhere. Muggles screamed.

And by Sirius' feet, Peter's finger lay, along with his robes in a bloodstained heap. Sirius began to giggle as he realised that once again, Peter had had him fooled completely. The insane giggle turned into a full-blown hysterical laugh. He was unable to stop. All he could think about was how _clever_ stupid little tag-along Peter had turned out to be, and how _stupid_ they had been. How _idiotic _he had been. The situation was fucked up beyond all repair, or FUBAR, as Buffy would have said. Sirius had learned long ago that life wasn't fair, but this was so unjust, so _twisted,_ that it was even a little bit funny. He kept laughing. Some part of his subconscious knew that that couldn't be healthy, that he must be in shock - but he couldn't stop.

He was still laughing when the Department of Magical Catastrophes arrived, led by a portly little man in a ridiculous lime-green bowler-hat. He still hadn't stopped, even when twenty members of the Magical Enforcement Squad showed up and took him into custody. He gave no resistance, did not even twitch, when Bartemius Crouch began to read him his rights – or rather, the lack thereof.

The other members of the squad, some of them Aurors that Sirius had worked with – were staring at him either in horror, disbelief or not meeting his eyes at all, as they took his wand from him: Sirius was still not resisting. His laughter only stopped when one of the Aurors stunned him, so they could transport him to the Ministry, but even then, the sound kept ringing in their ears.

* * *

**3 November**

SIRIUS BLACK ARRESTED FOR SELLING OUT THE POTTERS AND MURDERING TWELVE MUGGLES AND ONE WIZARD:  
ONLY A FINGER REMAINS OF PETER PETTIGREW!  
PETER PETTIGREW TO BE AWARDED A POSTHUMOUS ORDER OF MERLIN!

The article in that morning's _Daily Prophet_ continued in the vein it had since the Potter's death, only this time, it focused on the Fidelius charm, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew.

Buffy set the paper down and immediately rushed into the bathroom to throw up her newly eaten breakfast. Still sitting at the breakfast table, Remus said nothing as he too caught sight of the morning's headlines. Instead, he set the accursed newspaper on fire.

Buffy re-entered the kitchen, her eyes haunted and her lips trembling. "I want to talk to him," she whispered and Remus looked up. "To Sirius. I need to know what happened – "

Remus stood up so fast that his chair fell to the floor and Buffy flinched. She wasn't scared of her boyfriend – she never would be as she knew Remus would never lay a finger on her – but it hurt to see him like this. "It's obvious what happened," he said ruthlessly. "What are you hoping to get, Buffy? Some sort of explanation? Some tale that will _make it all better,_ that will make you _understand _where Sirius was coming from? There is no such thing! There is no explanation good enough! Nothing that comes out of that bastard's mouth can be trusted: nothing can change what has already happened! James is _dead!_ Lily is _dead!_ Peter is _dead!"_

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and his shoulders trembling. "I just want to forget. I wish I would wake up and find this has all been a terrible nightmare. I wish... Merlin, Buffy." He choked, and then Buffy was there, embracing him and holding him tightly, both of them clutching each other like a lifeline.

"I have to," Buffy whispered and Remus clutched her harder.

"Then go," he said hoarsely, releasing her from his arms.

* * *

"You have two minutes," an Auror said as he let her into the area where the prisoners were held. Buffy nodded, staring into the Ministry holding cell where Sirius was detained, grabbing hold of the bars.

Sirius sat in a corner, his head dropped forward to his knees which he'd pulled up to his chest. He wasn't moving. His clothes were covered in soot and ash. His hair was filled with dirt.

"Sirius?" Buffy whispered and slowly, Sirius looked up.

His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, surrounded by dark circles from a lack of sleep. His lips were dry and cracked and as he saw Buffy, they stretched into a smile and began to bleed. But it wasn't at all Sirius' usual smile, Buffy realised and unconsciously jerked. This smile was crooked and completely free from humour or the easy-going attitude Sirius was known for. It looked like the smile of a madman.

"Buffy..." Sirius whispered. "Hello."

Buffy swallowed. "I-I didn't want to believe it when I heard." Sirius looked down. "Tell me it isn't true. Tell me you didn't betray them, Sirius. Tell me – " she cut off, barely holding back a sob.

Sirius looked up again, but his eyes looked to be miles away. "Oh, but it is true," he whispered. "I did betray them...they trusted me, and I let them down. It's my fault." His grin widened slightly and Buffy closed her eyes as he began to _laugh,_ tears streaming down her cheeks. "I am guilty. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and – "

" – Good intentions?" Buffy's eyes snapped open and she abruptly let go of the bars. "How could you _possibly _have had any good intentions? Nothing you can say can make up for this, Sirius. _Nothing._"

"I know, Buffy," Sirius was scrambling to his feet now and his eyes looked wild. "But – "

"I hope you rot in hell, Sirius," Buffy said and then turned and walked away, all her hope crushed, her faith in her friend – _former_ friend – gone.

"Wait!" Sirius was screaming after her, desperately, as he realised the opportunity that had just slipped him by. Buffy had come here because some part of her had still believed in him...and he had blown it. He had blown the chance of being able to explain his side of the story, his own guilt overwhelming him and keeping him from telling the whole story, keeping him from saying anything except words that only affirmed his own culpability in Buffy's eyes. "Buffy!"

But Buffy was already gone, having run away, out of his sight and out of earshot. Sirius slumped back down into the corner. Once again, he had screwed up. Once again, he had been too late. New footsteps approached and Sirius looked up, hopefully. Had Buffy returned? But no. Sirius' hope fell and he stared with deadened eyes as the cell door was unlocked and Crouch and two Aurors Sirius didn't recognise came into view.

"Sirius Black," Crouch spoke, an unpleasant smile playing at his lips. "For your crimes; thirteen counts of murder – twelve muggles and one renowned wizard of high calibre - " Sirius wanted to snort, and would have, if his heart hadn't felt so empty "for being in the service of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, for being an accessory to murder by selling out the location of Lily and James Potter, you are hereby being sent to Azkaban prison to serve out a life sentence."

Finally, Sirius began to react. "Life sentence?" He croaked out, his voice full of confusion. Surely he would get a trial first! It was his last chance to explain! "But I haven't had –"

" – A trial?" Crouch interrupted, his eyes gleaming viciously. "Why would clear scum like you get a trial, Black? No, in face of the..._overwhelming_ evidence stacked against you, which includes the remains of your _friend,_ Peter Pettigrew – a finger, Black; _a finger _– there is no need for a trial."

Sirius could only stare as the two Aurors entered his cell and held and shackled him, neither of them reacting at all to the irregularity of Sirius not getting a trial, a right which everyone was entitled to – overwhelming evidence or not.

"May the Dementors have no mercy on your soul," Crouch finished nastily as Sirius was led away.

* * *

**7 November**

"Remus, Buffy."

Remus and Buffy looked up and met the sympathetic faces of Alice and Frank. "Hey, what are you doing here?" Buffy asked. "Aren't you in hiding?"

"Frank's mother has kept up updated on the news," Alice whispered, her eyes filled with sadness. "When we heard Lily and James were both dead, we had to come to the funeral. And with Voldemort also dead, we decided it was safe to lift the charm on our new house."

"Are you going to go back to live in Longbottom manor?" Remus asked, hoping that by focusing on a 'normal' conversation, he could forget the real reason they were here – to bury their friends.

Frank was shaking his head. "No. Living on our own without my mother hovering over our shoulder was...a relief. We actually enjoyed ourselves a lot, as much as one can while in hiding, at least. We're going to keep living there, minus the Fidelius." His lips twisted. "It's not like it made any difference for Lily and James at any rate."

Buffy and Remus looked down. "It's so horrible," Alice said quietly. "That Sirius - "

Realising Buffy and Remus didn't want to talk about it, Frank put a hand on his wife's shoulder, interrupting her. "We should get to our seats."

Alice nodded. "Of course. We'll see you later." Saying their goodbyes, Alice and Frank left.

More minutes passed, more guests arriving to stand around the new gravestone erected in Godric's Hollow's cemetery.

_James Potter, born 27 March 1960, died 31 October 1981  
__Lily Potter, born 30 January 1960, died 31 October 1981_

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

Buffy and Remus tried to avoid looking at the large, gaping hole in front of the stone where the coffin would be put down, but it was impossible, even with the stone's white marble shining in the sun. Worse than the empty hole was the coffin erected beside it, though the lid had been sealed, for which Buffy was grateful: she did not think she could handle being forced to watch Lily and James' dead bodies.

"Is Dumbledore the one who chose the epitaph?" Remus murmured to Buffy, who shrugged.

"I suppose." She bit her lip.

Remus frowned as he suddenly caught sight of a woman hovering towards the side and back of the crowd. "Isn't that Lily's sister?"

Buffy's head snapped up and her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the horse-faced woman, but then, her attention landed on the child struggling in her arms: a child with messy hair and a lightning bolt scar. She remembered Dumbledore's words after the last Order-meeting:_ "__I have left him with good people, I promise you." _She became filled with rage. What she and Dumbledore considered 'good people' clearly differed greatly. She knew of the animosity between Lily and her sister, she knew how Petunia despised magic. And she swore she would do everything to get Harry away from her.

She wasn't the only one who had noticed Harry, however, and the guests were beginning to whisper and point. Quickly, she made her way over to Petunia, pushing aside the people that had began to crowd the muggle woman, who was already beginning to look rather frightened. "Petunia," she said. "I'm Buffy Summers, a friend of James and Lily..."

Petunia's lips pursed. "I remember you," she said shortly. "You were maid of honour at Lily's wedding."

Buffy nodded. "I was. I have to admit, I'm...surprised to see you here." She glanced down at Harry, who was staring at her and now struggling to get to her.

"Baffee!" Harry cried.

"I am too," Petunia said. "I wasn't sure whether to come, but Lily was my sister, and I suppose the boy should see his parents buried."

Buffy bit her lip. "I-I could take Harry," she offered hesitantly. "For the rest of the funeral, I mean." _'And hopefully after.'_

Petunia's relief was obvious and she wasted no time in dumping Harry into Buffy's arms. "Thank you." And then she turned her head away, considering the conversation over.

Slowly, Buffy walked back to Remus, who placed a protective arm around Buffy, glaring at anyone who looked like they were about to come closer to get a glance at the 'Boy-Who-Lived.'

"Moo-y!" Harry exclaimed, holding out a hand to Remus, who carefully took it at the same time as he stroked the boy's dark hair. Harry was smiling and cocked his head at him. "Mama? Dada?"

Remus felt his heart break as he saw Harry's hopefully innocent expression. "No, Harry, I'm sorry. They're not here." Harry's face fell and he snuggled deeply into Buffy's arm, holding her tightly. Tears began to stream unhindered down Buffy's face.

Funeral music began to play, and then, Dumbledore appeared, carefully guiding the coffin which contained Lily and James' bodies into the grave with his wand. "This is not a muggle funeral," the Headmaster said, his voice solemn in the cold November air. "There is no priest here, or any other official, except myself. I will not make this a grand or long affair, as I do not believe Lily or James would have appreciated it. Their heroic deeds were many and a monument has already been raised in front of their home here in Godric's Hollow, which shall remain preserved in its ruined state, as a reminder of their last stand."

Buffy bit her lip. Both Lily and James would have hated that and from the way Remus' eyes narrowed, he knew it too. But she also knew it was likely a decision made by the Ministry, not Dumbledore. "But today, we are not here to honour their actions," Dumbledore continued, like he was reading her mind. "Take a moment to remember Lily and James - the_ people_ they were."

For a minute, all was silent, the guests heads bowed. Buffy remember meeting Lily, their visit in Diagon Alley, LA, the great friend she'd been. She remembered James, his laughter, the pranks he played, the first time he got her up in the air on a broomstick... The awed and loving expression on his face whenever he looked at Lily, and Lily's smile whenever she looked at James. She remembered their dual joy when Harry was born, James pride and Lily's happiness.

Dumbledore held up a blue plant with needle like leaves in his hand. "Rosemary," he said. "For remembrance." And then, he threw it down onto the coffin. "Let us never forget."

And then, he raised his wand and began to fill up the hole. When he was finished, he placed another twig of Rosemary on top of the pile and looked out over the crowd of people. _"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death," _he said, repeating the words embedded in the gravestone. "Lily and James shall forever live on in our memories, and in the afterlife which shall last forever, like their love. Death is not the end. Death shall not have victory. Death shall have no dominion over us. I have only a few more words left to say, and they are not my own, but Dylan Thomas', a muggle poet:

"_And death shall have no dominion.  
Dead men naked they shall be one  
With the man in the wind and the west moon;  
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,  
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;  
Though they go mad they shall be sane,  
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;  
Though lovers be lost love shall not;  
And death shall have no dominion._

_And death shall have no dominion._  
_Under the windings of the sea_  
_They lying long shall not die windily;_  
_Twisting on racks when sinews give way,_  
_Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;_  
_Faith in their hands shall snap in two,_  
_And the unicorn evils run them through;_  
_Split all ends up they shan't crack;_  
_And death shall have no dominion._

_And death shall have no dominion._  
_No more may gulls cry at their ears_  
_Or waves break loud on the seashores;_  
_Where blew a flower may a flower no more_  
_Lift its head to the blows of the rain;_  
_Through they be mad and dead as nails,_  
_Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;_  
_Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,_  
_And death shall have no dominion."_

Dumbledore bowed his head, falling silent. The funeral was over. Once people began to disperse, Buffy and Remus walked up to the Headmaster, still holding Harry.

"Dumbledore," Buffy said. "Petunia might have been Lily's family by blood, and I mean no offence, but Remus and I were part of the family Lily _chose._ Place Harry with us, and if not with us, then at least _not_ with Petunia and her husband."

"I'm sorry, Buffy, but Harry belongs with his blood-kin," Dumbledore said. "He will be safer with the Dursleys."

"How?" Remus demanded to know. "How can he be safer there? They're muggles! If a Death Eater were to find them - "

" - I do not need to explain the kind of protections that are set up around Harry's new home, but rest assured that they are secure. Ah, here is Petunia now," Dumbledore said, smiling as Lily's sister hesitantly walked up to them.

Buffy's eyes were narrowed, but she did not resist when Petunia took Harry from her arms. It took everything she had to not wrench him back when Harry began to cry, holding his arms out to her and Remus, crying their names. Petunia quickly hurried away, angrily trying to hush Harry and telling him to stop making a scene.

"This isn't over, Dumbledore," Buffy said. "Remus and I will fight for him."

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes. I suspect you will," he said, and then, apparated away.

* * *

**10 November**

Three days after the funeral, Buffy let out a sigh, dropping the letter of rejection they had gotten from the Ministry onto the table. Ever since learning Harry was staying at the Ministry, she and Remus had been sending in applications to the Ministry for custody. Until today, all of them had been sent back. Now, they had finally gotten a response. It was not positive.

The letter made it quite clear that neither Remus nor Buffy were suitable for custody, even though Buffy had been mentioned in Lily and James' will. They made it clear that a werewolf was not a suitable guardian for someone's child, and it was, in fact, against the law for them to adopt. They even added a ban on Remus from seeing Harry entirely, because they thought that as a dark creature, he would be a hazardous and unwelcome influence on the 'Boy-Who-Lived.'

As for Buffy, they made it clear that even if she left Remus (which she would never do), she would still not be allowed custody. She had no official ties to the child – for example, they mentioned that if she had been Harry's Godmother, the situation might have been different. But even if she had been, since she was the Slayer, they did not think she could give Harry a safe and stable environment free from danger.

The Ministry stated that they thought a normal family, with two parents and one sibling, would be the optimal environment for the Boy-Who-Lived to grow up in, even though they were muggles, especially since Albus Dumbledore vouched for them and even wrote a special letter that cautioned them _against _giving Buffy and Remus custody.

"Let me guess: they finally sent us a no in official writing," Remus said dryly.

"Very official. Threats and all," Buffy said, sighing and massaging her temples. She had been so tired lately...tired, and sick.

She abruptly froze as she realised Remus had walked up to her and was kneeling by her feet, holding a very small box – that could only come from a jewellers – in his hands. She stared.

"I know it may not be the best time for this," Remus said rather ruefully as he opened the lid, revealing a slim and classy ring in white gold, free from stones or other ornaments. Buffy swallowed. "But I've had this for months now, and something always happens that keeps me from proposing. I'm not letting that stop me anymore. Buffy, bad things happen all the time. The things that have happened lately have almost been more than I could bear. But I did, because you were next to me. You've always been next to me. I will not let bad things interfere with our life and our happiness any more. I believe we can make it through anything, as long as we're together, and I _want us to be together._ Forever. Buffy Anne Summers," Remus smiled slightly as Buffy let out a choked sob, "will you marry me?"

"Yes," Buffy whispered, nodding furiously, even as tears streamed down her face unhindered. "Yes, Remus, of course I'll marry you!"

Remus smile could have split his face, it was so wide. Standing up, he hugged Buffy tightly and they kissed, laughing and crying. Remus moved to put the engagement ring on Buffy's finger, but Buffy stopped him when she noticed something was engraved on the inside. "Wait...what's this?"

"It's nothing," Remus hastily, his face red, as Buffy took the ring and slowly turned it between her fingers. "It was just a stupid idea – "

"_The One Girl in all the worlds for me,"_ Buffy recited slowly as she read the cursive engraving. She looked up at boyfriend – fiancé, she corrected herself – amazed and touched, immediately understanding what the words meant. "Remus..."

"I told you it was stupid," Remus muttered.

"It's not stupid," Buffy whispered. "I love it."

Remus blinked. "You do?"

"Of course I do, doofus!" Buffy smacked his shoulder. "It's the most romantic thing I've ever seen!"

"Oh." Remus blush slowly died out.

"Help me put it on," Buffy said, giving back the ring to Remus who happily obliged, smiling. "You were right, Remus. Bad things do happen. But I have you, and you have me, and we won't let those things break us."

Remus held her close, saying nothing. Neither did Buffy. Both of them were busy basking in the emotions the other person was emitting through their bond. Words were unnecessary.

* * *

Azkaban was cold. Cold and dreary and without any hope. If Sirius had any, it was quickly taken away by the Dementors. He had no idea what day it was, or how long he'd been there – he had lost count soon after arriving. All he knew was that it couldn't have been that long, and yet it already felt like forever. Sirius knew that the lifetime he'd been sentenced to would turn out to be very short, unless something changed. Already, he could feel his sanity slip away, that he was losing his grasp on reality little by little.

He was unable to think. Any happy memories were soon stolen by the Dementors, while they instead dragged up all the bad ones. Already, he had had several flashbacks to his unhappy childhood and to his many mistakes - the moment where he'd suggested Peter as the Secret-Keeper made itself known more often than not. And then there were the painful memories: Mandy's capture and subsequent memory loss, the moment he'd seen the green light flash over Godric's Hollow...

Sirius was truly in Hell, his own mind having turned into a worse prison then his actual cell. Usually, the Dementors hovered right outside the bars, feeding off his misery. They could sense he was 'fresher' than the prisoners who had been in Azkaban longer, could sense that his mind was a healthier feeding ground, ripe for the taking. And they took. Oh, they took.

The only relief came whenever the Dementors retreated to patrol somewhere else, which lessened their effect. But these small moments of clarity were only enough to give Sirius time to bring a happy memory to the surface – which was immediately stolen upon the Dementors' return, no matter how much he tried to protect it. No matter how much he tried not to think of anything happy or significant, no matter how much he tried to keep the things he did not want to forget hidden in the deepest corners of his mind, the Dementors found it anyway.

Taking a deep breath as the Dementors once again left to patrol another corridor, Sirius' mind slowly cleared again. Trembling, he opened his eyes slowly, being met with the not-very-comforting sight of his cell-bars and the plain grey stone walls. He'd already counted every single block of stone in his cell several times, in the hopes that this monotone action would keep his memories and the Dementors at bay – it hadn't.

The Dementors were returning and Sirius began to shake anew. Placing his hand against the cold floor, Sirius closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind of all thought, hoping the cold stone against his skin would ground him in reality. He'd never been a master at Occlumency, but if anything could help him against the Dementors, it would be that – but it was impossible. He just wasn't disciplined enough, his mind not organised enough, and before long, another memory rose to the surface, even though he desperately tried to push it down...

* * *

**_Flashback_**

"_Ahh…" The hat whispered in his ear. "Another Black…but…something is different with you…you are not…like the others…of course, you'd do well in Slytherin, no doubt…but…no…yes, I see it now…it better be…GRYFFINDOR!"_

_The hall fell silent, and then the whispering started. "A Black? In Gryffindor?" "Preposterous!" "How can this be?" "We don't want a Death Eater in our house!"_

_Sirius did his best to ignore the whispers as he stalked over to the table dressed in red and gold, and sat down, not caring that those who sat closest to him moved away. That left more space to him. He didn't pay much attention to the sorting, except when a slightly sickly looking boy with light-brown hair, called Lupin, Remus, was sorted into Gryffindor, to his surprise. Instead, he played with the silverware: he turned the glass upside down, and with a wave of his wand, he had his fork and knife dancing on the plate. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lupin glance at him with interest, looking as if he was on the verge of speaking._

_Then Potter, James, was called out, and Sirius looked up in sudden interest, his cutlery dropping to his plate with a clang. He'd met the boy on the train, and he'd been certain he'd be sorted into Gryffindor… And, sure enough - the hat barely touched his head before it yelled 'GRYFFINDOR!'_

_James threw the hat to McGonagall with a wide grin and walked over to the Gryffindor table, where he promptly high-fived Sirius, before he turned around and glared at everyone who was staring at them with open mouths. "What are you lot looking at?" He demanded._

"_B-but…he's a _Black._ And you're a _Potter._ Potter's and Black's don't mix," someone protested, making James' eyes narrow. _

"_Says who?" He asked. "Besides, he's _Sirius," _he countered. "And I'm _James. _Plus, he's a _Gryffindor._ Just like you. So shut your gob!"_

_**End Flashback.**_

Sirius gritted his teeth, fighting against the Dementors with all he had. He didn't want to lose that memory! He _couldn't _lose that memory! It was the first time someone had stood up for him! The first time he realised that the boy he'd met on the train, James, was a true _friend _– and just like that, the dam broke – he lost control. Memory after memory of James, of all the happy times with him was brought to the surface, moment after moment stolen by the Dementors and Sirius was powerless to stop it.

"No…" Whimpering, Sirius curled up into a little ball, tugging at his hair. The first time they'd flown together – gone. The first time they'd sneaked out under James' invisibility cloak – gone. The first time they'd sneaked notes during class – gone. "No!" The first time they played a prank - gone. The first time they'd held a whispered conversation through their mirrors during detention – gone. The first time they'd sneaked out to Hogsmeade – gone. The first time he'd seen James turn into Prongs – Sirius brain came to a halt. Prongs. Padfoot.

Before he had time to think, Sirius transformed, the action a reflex after all the times he'd turned into his Animagus form through the years. It was easier than he thought it would be. And suddenly, he could think clearly again. He could still sense the Dementors effect, but it was lessened – he was in charge of his own mind again. He could sense the Dementors' sudden confusion, could sense them press against his mind in search of more memories…but he could keep them at bay. And then, the creatures moved away from his cell, miraculously having lost interest.

If Sirius could have, he would have laughed. He had found the solution. He knew he couldn't stay in animal form all the time – it was dangerous, for one: the animal could end up taking over – and he couldn't risk falling asleep while transformed, in case the human guards came while he was unaware of their presence... But he could do it often enough to give him relief from the Dementors, often enough for him to keep most of his sanity intact. He just had to hold out… Surely, someone would get him a trial eventually, no matter how guilty they thought he was – it was every citizen's right.

He wasn't blameless in Lily and James' deaths, and he would never forgive himself for the part he played in it – but he hadn't sold them out, nor had he killed all those muggles. Now that he'd found a way to keep his mind intact, he wasn't going to give up. He was innocent and a trial would prove that. One day, he would get out - and then, Peter would pay. The very thought of what he could do to the rat when he found him cheered him up slightly: scenario after scenario flashed by his mind, one more gruesome than the previous.

For once, he would be patient. After all, it wasn't like he had much else he could do. And thinking up ways to kill Peter Pettigrew was highly satisfying – revenge would be his, and it would be sweet. If anyone had looked into his cell just then, they would have seen a large, dirty black dog with a twisted snarl on its face, its grey eyes glinting with dark amusement.

* * *

**24 November**

"I'm so glad you could make it," Remus smiled weakly as he opened the door to Caradoc.

The grumpy Order member only let an eyebrow rise as he stepped into the cottage. "Yes, well, Buffy can be quite persuasive," he muttered. "I still have no idea why I'm here. And why are you in a muggle suit?"

Remus opened his mouth to answer, when suddenly, an unfamiliar man stepped into the hallway, brightening as he caught sight of Caradoc. "Ah, welcome! I am Pastor Dempsey and will perform the ceremony here today. And you must be the best-man!" He held out a hand for Caradoc to shake, a smile on his face.

Caradoc only stared at the outstretched hand dumbly and then turned furious eyes at Remus. "The best _what?" _He hissed. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?"

Remus winced. "Yes...umm...Buffy and I are getting married!" He said with a wide smile. "In a few minutes. Surprise!"

Caradoc pinched his nose tiredly. "Why do I put up with you two?"

"Because you're fifty percent fond and fifty percent terrified of my soon-to-be-wife," Remus said dryly. "And speaking of Buffy, you should join her – she wants you to give her away."

"Well, I _am _more fond of_ her_ than I am of _you, _Lupin," Caradoc said. "So I suppose that is a slightly less demeaning assignment than being your best-man."

Pastor Dempsey looked bewildered and finally lowered his hand as he realised Caradoc had no intention of shaking it. "So we are still waiting for the best-man and the matron of honour, then," he concluded.

"Who else is invited?" Caradoc rolled his eyes, resigned to his fate.

"It's not a big affair. We only asked Frank and Alice to come. You three are going to be the only witnesses."

"And do_ they_ know they are to participate in a wedding?"

"Of course," Remus said with a smirk. "Unlike you, we knew telling them beforehand wouldn't cause them to run in the opposite direction."

"We're so sorry we're late!" The outer door flew open and Alice and Frank entered, Alice wearing a lavender dress in silk, balancing confidently on a pair of matching high heels. Frank was dressed in a muggle suit that looked like it had been custom-fitted.

"It's alright. I don't think Buffy is ready yet," Remus said and led the way into the living room, where the wedding ceremony was to be held. The room had been thoroughly cleaned and was decorated with flowers and burning candles. "How is Augusta?"

"I don't know," Frank said dryly. "Mother is refusing to speak to either of us since we told her that we're not moving back into Longbottom manor. She'll get over it. Eventually."

"When we went over there earlier to leave Neville with her, she only said 'humph,' put her nose in the air, took Neville, and slammed the door in our faces." Alice's lips twitched with amusement.

"She certainly knows how to hold a grudge," Frank nodded. "She – "

He was interrupted by Buffy's voice coming from their bedroom: "Is Alice here yet? If she is, send her in! I need her help! And no peeking!"

"You heard the lady," Remus said, his eyes glinting with humour.

Alice chuckled and went to the bedroom. She had barely gotten the chance to knock before the door was opened and she was forcibly pulled inside by the wrist.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," Buffy blurted out the moment the door slammed closed. The Slayer looked rather harried and she now threw panicked eyes at Alice. "Remus only_ proposed_ a fortnight ago! But when the pastor said he was free as soon as today, we thought why wait, right? With everything that's happened, wasting time on a long engagement seemed so silly and we've been a couple for ages so it's not like we're rushing into this – "

" – Buffy," Alice interrupted gently as she turned Buffy around to help her lace up the dress which was currently only staying on due to Buffy's repeated pulling at the neckline. "Breathe."

Buffy forcibly took a deep breath as Alice pulled the dress taught and finished lacing up the back, enclosing her into the beautiful garment. "I think I need to puke," the Slayer admitted.

"You probably don't want to do that while you're wearing your wedding dress," Alice advised her sagely.

"Right. Of course not. Can I sit down?" Without waiting for an answer, Buffy sank down on the bed, not caring that the skirt to the dress got wrinkled.

"Buffy, if you're truly not ready, you don't have to do this. There is no rush. Remus would understand."

Buffy threw her a miserable look. "But I _am_ ready. I know Remus is the one and I have no doubts whatsoever that being married to him is the future I want. It's just..." She bit her lip. "No offense to you, or anything, but I always thought Lily would be next to me when it happened."

Alice sighed. "I know what you mean. It's so strange that she's gone. That James is gone. And that the war is over is not really a comfort at all, not to the people who knew them. The cost was too high. But if it makes you feel any better, if Lily _was _here, she would be yelling at you to pull yourself together and to not keep Remus waiting any longer."

Buffy's lips twitched. "You're right. She would have." She took a deep breath and stood up. "I think I'm ready now."

"Good," Alice said, carefully adjusting Buffy's long hair around her face and handing over her bouquet of flowers. "If I know Caradoc right, he's already impatient for the ceremony to start so it can end."

As if he'd heard her, a series of impatient knocks on the door interrupted them. "Remus is ready to begin – he and Frank and the muggle are all in position," Caradoc could be heard saying, his voice slightly muted through the door. "We're just waiting for you now. Get out of there so we can get this over with."

Alice smiled and gave Buffy a hug. "You make a lovely bride, Buffy," she said, before she slipped out of the room to take her place in the living room.

In the now open doorway, Caradoc stood, looking rather uncomfortable. "She's right, you know," he said gruffly, clearing his throat and not meeting her eyes. "You do make a lovely bride."

Buffy smiled brilliantly and hooked her arm through Caradoc's, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Car. And thank you for consenting to give me away. I know it's usually something the father of the bride does, but my father isn't here. And even thought I certainly don't consider you to be a father-figure of any kind, you are a very good friend."

"Don't mention it. And it's not like you gave me much choice."

"Would you have objected?" Buffy asked, amused.

"...No," Caradoc huffed. "Well, maybe at first, as a principle."

Buffy laughed. "I always knew you were a big softie underneath all that snark."

"Don't mention_ that_ either," Caradoc muttered. "Now, let's get you married."

Buffy beamed at him.

* * *

When he saw Buffy walk towards him, arm in arm with Caradoc, Remus breath caught in his throat. Her wedding dress was strapless, in pure white satin with an empire waist, one hip decorated with a rose made of the same material. From there, the lower parts of the dress flared out into a chapel train that reached the floor. Buffy wasn't wearing a veil, her hair instead hanging free to cascade over her shoulders. She gave him a wobbly smile. To Remus, she had never looked more beautiful.

With reverence, Remus held his hand out for her to take, already lost in her eyes. He had dreamed of this for so long, but as a werewolf, he had never thought anyone would want him, let alone marry him. And then, Buffy had come along and changed everything. He almost didn't register anything the pastor said, and it was only when Frank cleared his throat behind him that he remembered to say his vows:

"Buffy. You are truly the other half of my soul and without you, I would be less than nothing. Before I met you, I never dared to even dream of love, and then, you showed up, and you saved me. You know me better than I know myself, and even though you're aware of all my faults, you've stood by me, through everything, and if you weren't here today, I don't know where or who I would be. But you_ are_ here, and that means everything. You make me a braver man, a better man, and most of all a happier man. Buffy Anne Summers, I promise to respect you, to trust you, and to protect you - even though I know you can protect yourself better." Buffy let out a little laugh at Remus' rueful tone. "Furthermore, I promise to stay faithful to you. I promise to always love you - for richer or poorer - probably mostly poorer, in sickness and in health - probably mostly sickness." Buffy laughed again, even though the poor muggle pastor didn't seem to know what to think of Remus' vows. "From the bottom of my heart and with all that I am, I love you." By the time Remus finished, both he and Buffy were smiling stupidly at each other.

"Remus," Buffy began. "If I am one half of your soul, you are the half of mine. Unlike you, I always thought I knew what love was, but I believed in a fairytale. You are_ not _a fairytale. You are imperfect, just as I am imperfect, and somehow, that makes _us_ perfect together. You make me believe in myself and with you, I always feel like I am home. Remus John Lupin, I promise to always stand by your side, like you stand by mine, for richer or poorer - hopefully richer," she added with a smirk. "I promise to always try to make you feel as happy as you make me. I promise to be loyal to you, to fight for you and to always, always love you - even when you think you don't deserve to be loved - in sickness, just as much as in health." She winked. "But I won't promise to love you until death do us part - because I don't believe death could ever part us. Our souls are joined, Remus, and souls that are meant to be together _always_ find each other."

* * *

The rings were exchanged, Remus and Buffy kissed and were declared husband and wife, and suddenly, the wedding ceremony was over and the pastor left. Buffy and Remus invited Caradoc, Frank and Alice to join them for dinner (with Buffy's assurances that Remus had been the one to cook it).

At first, all of them made sure to try and keep the conversation light and happy - after all, this was supposed to be a wedding dinner and the happiest day of Remus and Buffy's lives, but they both knew it weren't - with everything that had happened, how could it? As such, the topic eventually changed and became more serious.

"We saw you with Harry at the funeral," Alice began hesitantly. "Are you going to get custody? I know he's staying with Lily's sister and her husband for now, but surely that's not the best situation for him?"

Buffy and Remus exchanged looks and then shook their heads. "We want to," Remus said, gripping his fork tightly. "We've tried to, but we've been rebuffed at every turn. Apparently, we're both _unsuitable._"

Alice bit her lip and exchanged a look with her husband. "The reason I asked is...well, Frank and I have been talking ever since Lily and James' funeral," she said hesitantly. "The way Lily talked about her sister sometimes when we were both at Hogwarts, made me doubtful she was an appropriate guardian - "

Buffy snorted. "You've got that right."

" - And we've decided we want to take custody of Harry," Alice continued. "He and Neville already know each other and they could grow up together."

Buffy and Remus' eyes widened with hope.

"And of course, we'd allow you to see him whenever you wish," Frank added. "We haven't sent in an application to the Ministry yet, but we're going to. If you think it's alright."

"Of course we do!" Remus said fiercely. "And that's an arrangement the Ministry can't possibly protest! You're both highly respected in the Wizarding World, a stable married couple without economical issues and Harry will also have a _sibling_ in Neville! They can't possibly turn you down!"

Buffy nodded fiercely. "You must apply. The sooner Harry gets away from Petunia and her whale of a husband, the better."

Alice smiled slightly. "We'd be glad to."

"Good," Buffy said fiercely and then took a deep breath. "Let's talk about something else. How is Eliza doing, Caradoc?" she asked, turning her attention to the grumpy Order member.

Caradoc threw her an exasperated look. "Why is everyone under the impression that we're together, or _should be_ together?" He demanded to know.

"I didn't say anything about that!" Buffy raised her hands up in surrender. "I was simply asking if you knew how she's doing. But since you brought it up..."

Caradoc let out a noise of frustration. "She's fine. We communicate through owl-post. I've been to France a couple of times to see her, since that's what _friends _do– that's it, the end, nothing to gossip about."

"But you would make such a cute couple," Alice cooed at him.

Caradoc gave her a blank look. "I don't have time for romance."

"Then take time, man!" Frank interrupted. "The war is over. There won't be a better time."

"The war might be over," Caradoc said, sipping lightly at his butterbeer, "but far from every Death Eater is in jail."

Remus frowned. "But it's not your job to put them there."

"That doesn't mean I can't help speed up the process," the Order member said mildly.

Buffy threw him a worried look. "What are you talking about?" She demanded to know. "What are you up to, Caradoc?"

"It's nothing to worry about." The Order member waved away her concerns. "Moody and Dumbledore have simply asked me to keep an eye out on the suspected Death Eaters who haven't been brought in for interrogation yet, to try and see what I can find out."

Buffy gave him a horrified look and her stomach churned. Spying...it had brought her nothing but grief. Remus had been sent to spy on Greyback's camp, causing her much worry. Dorcas had been killed while spying on Voldemort and Sirius had been a spy for Voldemort all along, resulting in the deaths of Peter, Lily and James. She couldn't lose another friend. "You don't have to do that. Let the Aurors handle it."

"You don't have to worry about me," Caradoc rolled his eyes. "I'm a pureblood, with connections. And I know how to be discreet, know where to turn without raising suspicion, and I am also a highly capable wizard. I am going to have regular meetings with Moody and I can stop whenever I want. And I'll do so, the moment I feel I might be in danger."

"Just be careful," Buffy asked him. "If you die, I'll bring you back and kill you again."

"Don't worry," Caradoc smirked. "I am far too selfish to allow myself to die in a war that's technically been won already."

* * *

_**Published: **09/12 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- We know from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire that upon Voldemort's resurrection/return, the Death Eaters' Dark Marks became stronger/more visible. As such, the Dark Mark would logically become more faded upon his first vanquish, as seen here with Severus' mark.

- A lot of Snape's talk with Dumbledore was taken directly from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

- FUBAR = Fucked Up Beyond All Repair

- The portly little man in a ridiculous lime-green bowler-hat who arrives after Peter fakes his own death is, of course, Cornelius Fudge, future Minister of Magic, but at that moment, Junior Minister of the Department of Magical Catastrophes. The scene of Sirius' arrest and the_ Daily Prophet_ article are based upon accounts from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

- Lily and James' epitaphs are from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, as is the monument outside their home and the decision to keep it in its ruined state.

- The reason I chose Rosemary to feature in the funeral, is of course, due to its association with memory: throughout history, mourners would often carry sprigs of rosemary at a funeral and toss it into the coffin before it was buried to ensure that the deceased would not be forgotten. Sir Thomas More said about rosemary: "It is the herb sacred to remembrance and, therefore, to friendship; whence a sprig of it hath a dumb language that maketh it the chosen emblem of our funeral wakes and in our buriall grounds." Rosemary's role in the remembrance of the dead appears in Shakespeare's work. In _Hamlet_, Ophelia says: "There's rosemary, that's for remembrance, pray, love, remember." Here, the happenings of Halloween, 1981, is obviously something that will always be, and always should be, remembered, and by picking Rosemary, Dumbledore hopes to emphasise not only Lily and James' sacrifice, but also Harry's survival and victory over Voldemort.

- 'Death shall have no dominion' is a famous poem by Dylan Thomas, and I chose it mainly because I find it so incredibly profound, especially in the context of this series and it characters.

- Remus buys Buffy's ring in Road of Sacrifice chapter 20. We never learn what the engraving was then, but now we do. It's supposed to be a play on the 'one girl in all the world' line from the Slayer prophecy. And 'worlds' are obviously in reference to Buffy being from another world than the W. world, and that she and Remus are soulmates.

- The Muggle priest who performs the wedding ceremony is the Same priest who performed Dana Lupin's funeral.


	29. December

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**1**** December**

"What do you think of this, Alice?" Frank wondered, pushing over the parchment he had been writing on towards Alice, who was currently amusing their son by blowing bubbles with Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, filling the sitting room with bluebell-coloured bubbles. Neville's eyes were wide as he poked them with his chubby fingers, giggling when some of them burst and blinking in cute confusion when some refused to, and instead stuck themselves to his fingers.

Sucking the current bubble she was forming back into her mouth, Alice turned to glance at the parchment. "You sound stuck-up," she said once she finished.

Frank sighed. "I know. But I think if we want to get custody of Harry, this application _has _to sound stuck-up and properly 'pureblood.'"

"I suppose. I still think you should tone it down a little – there were a couple of sections that made me believe I was reading something written by a _Malfoy _and not my husband," Alice smirked.

"Really?" Frank asked, reclaiming the parchment and skimming it over, an expression of revulsion crossing his face as he found the sentences Alice had talked about. "By Merlin, you're right…" He shuddered.

"I always am," Alice sing-songed, before she unwrapped yet another piece of gum, put it in her mouth and blew yet another bubble to amuse her son. Neville watched with wide eyes and then stretched out his fingers towards the colourful wrapper.

Suddenly, a loud bang sounded across the house and Frank and Alice exchanged worried looks. Neville looked frightened and Alice hastily picked him up and grabbed her wand from its wrist holster. Frank grabbed his own wand and cast a silent spell, paling as he got the result. "The wards are down and there are at least four hostiles on the premises."

Alice smiled weakly. "I suppose your mother was right – not moving back into Longbottom manor _was _foolish. I suppose she will get to tell us 'I told you so' if – "

" – There's no if about it," Frank interrupted curtly, having correctly guessed what Alice intended to say. "You and Neville will be fine."

"I'm not leaving you!"

"Don't argue, just get to the floo – I'll be right behind you."

Realising they were wasting time, Alice hurriedly entered the sitting room and threw a handful of floopowder into the fireplace. The flames flickered green for less than second, and then died out. "It's not working." Her voice trembled and she clutched Neville tighter, her mother-instincts overruling her Auror-training.

"Get out the backdoor," Frank ordered her. "I'll hold them off at the front."

Giving Frank one last look, hoping it conveyed everything she felt in that moment, Alice took off, hoping that was not the last time she set eyes on her husband. Unfortunately, when she got to the backdoor, she found it was already blocked off – by Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange.

Bellatrix clapped her hands together in delight as she caught sight of Alice who hastily conjured a shield around herself and Neville, knowing she couldn't duel without risking Neville's life. "Well, it's not the warm welcome I was expecting, but I suppose you can't get everything you want these days, hmm?" Alice clenched her jaw. Bellatrix was less than sane on an average day, but right at this moment, she looked even more unhinged than usual. Her hair stood up in every direction and her eyes were crazed. "And you brought your little cutie along! How sweet!"

"You stay the hell away from my son," Alice spat, trying to ignore the sounds of duelling she heard in the background, coming from the opposite end of the house.

"Well, that will depend on you, won't it, dearest?" Bellatrix asked, and before Alice could react, she suddenly had her wand pointed at her. Beside her, Rodolphus stood unmoving, like a silent bodyguard. "Now, back up – slowly, and no sudden movements, unless you want your little Nevvie-pooh to get cursed in that pretty face of his. I bet it won't take me long to get that little shield down. I'm _highly motivated,"_ she added in a fierce whisper.

Forced to obey, Alice slowly walked back to the kitchen. In her arms, Neville trembled, obviously frightened, though he was thankfully keeping silent. Bellatrix jerked her head towards one of the chairs. "Sit. 'Dolphie, darling, why don't you go help your brother and Barty in the hall?"

Alice paled. Barty? Did she mean Bartemius Crouch, head of the Magical Law Enforcement, her boss? Surely Voldemort's influence had not reached that far…

Bellatrix' cackles interrupted her thoughts. "I know what you're thinking!" she sing-songed. "But you're wrong._ Our_ Barty is not _your_ Barty – he's his son." She let out a noise of frustration, and suddenly, before Alice could react, she'd thrown herself at her, grabbing Alice wand and jerking it from her grasp. Her shield did not stop physical attacks, Alice realised, too late. At last, Neville burst into tears.

Bellatrix grinned and twirled Alice's wand between her fingers. Then, she shouted: "Tell Frankie to come quietly or I'll gut his wife and child and I'll laugh while I do it!" Her voice was loud and jeering, and there was no way Frank hadn't heard, even over the sounds of battle. Alice heard the sound of a curse impacting with a wall, and then, silence. Less than ten seconds later, Frank was led into the sitting room, bound in ropes, and forced down in a chair next to Alice's. Her husband threw her a defeated look.

"_I'm sorry,"_ Alice mouthed. Frank only shook his head in a comforting motion, as if to tell her it was not her fault, but his.

"Finally, we're all gathered." Bellatrix beamed at both Longbottoms. "I'll take the little sweetie," she said, grabbing Neville from Alice.

"No!" Alice exclaimed, trying to stop her from taking him, but was stopped by Rabastan's hands on her shoulders. Beside her, Frank was straining wildly against the ropes that bound him.

"Tssk, tssk," Bellatrix tutted, ignoring Neville's cries – or perhaps revelling in them. "I won't harm him. Yet." She cocked her head. "I suppose that depends on you."

"What do you want?" Frank growled. "If you were planning on killing us, you would have done it already. You've had plenty of chances."

"Oh, aren't you clever?" Barty exclaimed, his tongue darting out in an obscene motion.

"Where is the Dark Lord?" Rodolphus asked, his voice dark. His wife was now cooing at Neville who squirmed in her arms, clearly terrified.

"Dead," Frank snapped. "Or didn't you get the memo?"

_"He is not dead!" _Bellatrix snapped, walking forwards furiously, practically flinging a screaming Neville into Barty's arms. "The Dark Lord is _immortal_ - he will never fall! I know you know where he is! _Tell me!"_

"I don't know!" Frank snapped out. "All I know is what was in the newspapers - Voldemort attacked the Potters and was killed by a_ baby._"

"YOU DO NOT SAY HIS NAME!" Bellatrix screeched, furiously. "YOU'RE NOT WORTHY TO UTTER THE DARK LORD'S NAME!" She flung out her wand. _"CRUCIO! CRUCIO!"_

Alice screamed as her husband arched backwards in his chair from the force of the Unforgivable. His entire body seized, blue veins and muscle straining in his neck from the pain, but he did not make a single sound. "Stop it! STOP IT!" she repeated when Rodolphus joined Bellatrix in cursing her husband. Finally, Frank screamed, but neither of them let up and Frank's eyes rolled back into his head and his entire body jerked from the nerve damage.

"Tell us what we want to know!" Rodolphus growled at Frank while Bellatrix cackled. "Where has the Dark Lord gone?!" Neville had fallen silent, put under a silencing charm by Barty and then bound to his baby-chair, forced to watch his parents get tortured. At last, the two married Death Eaters dropped the curse on Frank.

_"Well?"_ Bellatrix hissed.

"I don't know anything," Frank panted, his voice hoarse from screaming and his eyes red from the blood-vessels that had burst in his eyes. Alice was sobbing. _"We _don't know..._anything," _he repeated.

Bellatrix' eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, getting up in Frank's face. _"I don't believe you." _And then, she once again pointed her wand at him, once again joined by her husband. _"CRUCIO!" _

Frank screamed.

"HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING!" Alice kept shouting, over and over, as she was forced to watch her husband be tortured to an inch of his life. "HE DOESN'T KNOW ANYTHING!" Blood had begun to pout out of Frank's mouth - he had bitten partway through his tongue - and he choked. "PLEASE, STOP HURTING HIM!" Tears streamed unhindered down Alice's face.

"Perhaps he really doesn't know anything," Rabastan said from behind Alice, his voice bored, the tip of his wand pointing at Alice's neck. "Or perhaps he's simply not...motivated enough."

Bellatrix dropped her curse, and soon after, so did Rodolphus. Barty was weighing from foot to foot, looking elated by the proceedings but so far not actively participating in the torture. "What do you mean?" the witch practically purred, her forehead gleaming with sweat from the effort it took to keep the Cruciatus curse up for such a long period of time.

Rabastan smiled, and then, it was Alice's turn to scream. Her nerves were on fire, and she jerked forward, desperately trying to get away from Rabastan's wand. The Cruciatus curse had been silently cast, but to Alice, it felt even more painful than when the curse was said aloud: Rabastan's wand was still in direct contact with her skin, pointed directly against the base of her skull where it met her spine. Forceful shocks were sent through the critical neurological and vascular structures that could be found there, and into her brain. Her head jerked back and forth as her neck began to spasm, and she let out a weak gurgle that sounded strange to her own ears, and for a moment, her vision blacked out, and so did her hearing.

When it came back, the first thing she heard was Frank shouting: "...her go! She doesn't know anything! Please, stop! Please! Please! Stop!" His voice sounded weak and raspy, ruined from screaming, and he was slurring.

Alice felt the curse be lifted, but she kept jerking, her nerves and muscles no longer completely under her control. And yet, from somewhere, she got the strength to lift her head, to look at Frank and Neville. Neville, in his baby-chair, had tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. Frank had blood streaming from his ears, nose and mouth, and the whites of his eyes where completely bloodshot.

"Is anyone ready to talk yet?" Bellatrix asked, almost sweetly.

"We can't tell you what we don't know," Alice managed to get out. The room was spinning.

Bellatrix' eyes darkened.

_"CRUCIO!"_ Four voices echoed this time and Alice screamed again. Beside her, Frank's chair tipped over as the Auror jerked back from the force of three wands pointed at him, and he hit his head at the hard tiles. And yet, none of them stopped, and kept cursing him where he lay. Frank's entire body was seizing, his limbs jerking and twisting almost like a strange slithering dance on the floor. Drool joined the blood gushing out of his mouth, down his chin and onto the stone floor, and his eyes fluttered. His head was bleeding from where it had impacted with the floor. Rabastan was still cursing Alice, his wand pressed even more tightly against the junction of her skull and spine.

Time passed. Alice couldn't think. She could no longer scream. There was only pain, her brain slowly shutting down to dangerous levels, even as she made a last conscious effort to escape deeper into her damaged mind in an effort to escape the pain. The last thing she saw before the world turned a blinding white and she lost the things that anchored her to reality, was a wrapper of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum that had ended up beneath the kitchen table when she played with Neville.

"TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW! TELL US EVERYTHING YOU KNOW!" Bellatrix insisted, over and over again, going from cursing Frank, to Alice, to Frank again, not realising, or not caring, that her companions had all stopped.

"They can't tell us anything, Bella," Rodolphus said at last and grabbed her arm. "Look at them. They're vegetables."

"Vegetables." Bellatrix repeated, and then giggled as she looked at the two Aurors. Frank was still on the floor and Alice had slumped over in her chair. The couple's limbs were still occasionally twitching, blood dribbling out of their orifices. Their eyes were blank and void of intelligence. _"Vegetables!" _she let out a cackling laugh, and then, she burst into sobs. "Where is he, Dolphie?" She let out a keening whine, walking into her husband's arms. "Where is the Dark Lord? I must find him! _He is counting on me!"_ She gave Rodolphus imploring look, her expression almost childlike. "I must find him," she repeated.

"And we will," Rabastan said.

"There are other sources," Barty said. "Other Aurors." His eyes gleamed with eagerness mixed with some fright. "Perhaps even my father..."

Bellatrix withdrew from Rodolphus' arms. "You're right, of course," she said, suddenly completely composed again. "But first, let's deal with this little sweetie." The witch turned to Neville, who still sat in his baby-chair, his eyes red and swollen, his body occasionally jerking with silent hiccups. She tapped the toddler's nose teasingly. "Let it not be said I cannot be reasoned with. It is only fair to let him join his parents, is it not?"

"Most fair, indeed," Rodolphus agreed.

"Send off the Dark Mark, Barty," Bellatrix ordered her brother-in-law. Barty nodded sharply, and then turned to leave the room, only to be hit with a stunner that impacted directly with his chest, and he dropped like a stone. Before the other three Death Eaters could react, all of them were hit with disarming spells, and surrounded by Aurors and other people from the Law Enforcement, most notably, Bartemius Crouch senior, who now stepped forwards.

"Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange," Crouch said, his voice monotone. "You are under arrest." Only then did he notice Barty who had fallen face down when the stunner had hit him. "And who is this scum?" he spat out, kicking him in the side until he rolled over. Crouch jerked back in shock and horror as he caught sight of his son's face. From the sharp breaths and hisses of the other people with him, they too had recognised who he was. "No..." Bellatrix began to laugh and Crouch's eyes hardened as he cast a silent _rennervate_ on his son, who sat up groggily.

Barty blinked as he regained consciousness, and then, his lips began to tremble. "Father! Thank Merlin! I-I haven't done anything, I swear! You must believe me!"

Crouch said nothing, instead, he simply dragged up his son's left sleeve, exposing the Dark Mark there._ "Haven't done anything?"_ he echoed with an angry growl. "That mark says otherwise."

"Father - "

" - You're no son of mine," Crouch hissed and then gestured to his Aurors with a jerk of his head. "Seize him. Take all four into custody. We'll deal with all of you back at the Ministry."

The majority of the Aurors stepped forward and grabbed the four Death Eaters, while the rest stepped forward to deal with Frank and Alice. Moody sighed as he caught sight of the state of his protégées and with one glance, realised their state of mind - or rather, the lack of it. If he had had a choice, he would have seen one or both of them in charge of the Auror Department and perhaps even the Magical Law Enforcement itself one day. He had had big plans for them both - and for James Potter, and for Sirius Black. All of their careers had been so bright. And now... He shook his head. He felt suddenly tired. He liked to pretend he didn't give a damn...but he did. How could he not?

"They're a little _out of it, _if you know what I mean," Bellatrix cackled loudly, even as she was led away, to the horror of the Aurors who were now doing a cursory exam of Frank and Alice. Aurors were trained to do minor field healing, but what Frank and Alice needed were far beyond their abilities - perhaps far beyond anyone's.

Clenching his jaw, Moody once again forced himself to harden his heart. "Get them to St. Mungo's, and pray they're not too far gone to help." He then caught sight of Neville. "Take the boy too."

"A memory charm?" Tomas Proudfoot asked quietly.

"Not up to me," Moody grunted. "But if it were my decision, then, yes, I'd take the memory of this away. No child so young should have to remember their parents being tortured."

* * *

**2 December**

Healer after Healer kept treating and looking at Frank and Alice throughout the night, none of them wanting to give up. They had already lost one hero of the war - James Potter - under their watch - but to lose the equally respected Longbottoms as well, barely a fortnight afterwards? None of them wanted to accept that. All of St. Mungo's most prominent mind-Healers were called into to consult and to examine Frank and Alice, but even they had no answer and were forced to scratch their heads in despair. As night became morning and morning turned to noon, they were forced to put their wands and potions away. Nothing was working.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do, except to make them comfortable in our long term ward," the Healer in charge of the Longbottom case, Brendan Hopkins, finally told a distraught but resolute Augusta Longbottom. The old matriarch's back was straight and her eyes dry - there would be no tears from her - as she was led into the room Frank and Alice had been placed in. "They're just...gone. Their bodies are there, but their minds..." Brendan shook his head. "I am truly sorry."

Augusta only nodded, her lips pursed tightly as she stroked Frank and Alice's heads, and then, touched Alice's cheek gently, and leaned down to kiss her son's still forehead. Both of them had been put into a peaceful sleep, and no physical sign remained of the torture they had gone through.

"Thank you for trying," she said stiffly as she straightened up. "And where is my grandson? Surely the memory charm could not have taken all night to apply? I expected him back in my arms hours ago." Augusta had given the Healers permission to obliviate Neville the moment he, Frank and Alice were brought in and things were explained to her. Her grandson did not need the emotional scarring that remembering such an event would bring him, and everyone knew that the sooner a memory charm was performed after the moment you wanted to remove, the bigger the chance of success.

"The reason we didn't bring him to you sooner was because we wanted to examine him for injuries, even if there were none visible," Hopkins explained. "And since he's so little, we wanted to keep him under observation after we did the memory charm. He should be along any minute now, though – " the Healer notably hesitated.

" – Though what? What has happened?" Augusta demanded to know, her voice sharp.

Brendan sighed. "We performed the memory charm as soon as your grandson was brought in, like you asked, but there were…complications. His mind was still in a state of shock and so confused that it should not have been tampered with at the time, though if we had waited, I doubt we could have erased the memory at all: a baby's mind is very complex. The entire event was removed, but I'm afraid some of his short-term memory might suffer as a result."

"What does that mean?" Augusta Longbottom asked quickly in a no-nonsense tone of voice that the Healer recognised: he often heard it in relatives or patients who wanted - _demanded_ - to know the untarnished truth, no matter how horrible.

"Well, it's not anything to worry about right now, but when he gets older, your grandson may have trouble remembering small things, like where he put his socks, or what he has for homework. However, it should not affect his everyday living: when he enters puberty, it is most likely these problems will gradually disappear, and they should be completely gone by the time he's an adult."

Augusta took a deep breath, happy it was not anything more serious. "Thank you for your honesty. Will you make sure my son and his wife gets placed in the long-term ward? And I want them both to have the best of care - I don't care about the cost."

Hopkins nodded. "Of course."

Augusta nodded her head shortly at the Healer in response, before she stalked out of the room, no longer wanting to look at the emptiness that was her son and his wife.

* * *

**8 December**

To Buffy and Remus, the news about Frank and Alice came as yet another unwelcome blow to the couple - and yet, after everything that had already happened, it wasn't that shocking. It was just yet another awful thing to deal with on top of everything else. With the Longbottoms now unable to fight for Harry's custody, the two were forced to give up and realise that Harry was out of their reach. Instead, Buffy and Remus tried to pick up the pieces in the war's aftermath and try to focus on what they still had, rather than what they had lost, and enjoy the knowledge that they were now husband and wife.

But it was impossible to completely shut out what was happening in the rest of the world. The _Daily Prophet _constantly reported news on the Death Eater trials that were now happening at the Ministry.

Severus Snape was brought to trial, but Dumbledore vouched for him to everyone in the Order's surprise: here was, apparently, one spy, that unlike Dorcas, had been kept secret and as such survived. Buffy knew it was likely his love - or obsession - for Lily was what made him switch sides, and she wondered when it had happened. And yet, Buffy couldn't help but wonder if Snape _truly _had switched - who was he really double-crossing? Voldemort or Dumbledore? Or both? She wondered what side he would take when Voldemort returned, as she was sure he would. Would the memory of Lily be enough to keep him on the right side?

Snape was one of few Death Eaters to be acquitted: Bartemius Crouch was merciless in most of his verdicts. To no one's surprise, Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange were all sentenced to Azkaban for life - however, that Barty Crouch Jr. got the same sentence was, especially as it was passed by his own father. But still some thought all four Death Eaters should have gotten the kiss for what they had done to the Longbottoms. Buffy disagreed: if they were kissed, except for the terror of that moment, they would not truly suffer, while in Azkaban, their minds would be tortured in a way that she felt fit the crime - a mind for a mind. Perhaps it was a harsh stance to take, but Buffy felt the last few months had hardened her even more than the war as a whole had done.

As December began, more and more of Voldemort's followers and supporters were tracked down and brought in for questioning and sentencing. Many of the arrests could be made thanks to the secret intelligence gathered by Caradoc, as Moody reported to the Order. But despite Caradoc's obvious success in his mission, not every arrest was made successfully - many were killed and injured in the spellfire that broke out when Aurors and Hit-Wizards and Witches showed up to arrest the Death Eaters in their various hiding places. St. Mungo's had their hands full, and many of Voldemort's closest supporters were still on free foot. If Buffy knew Caradoc right, he would not stop until he found them, and she worried about the danger it put him in.

* * *

"Have our mutual _friends _gotten back from their trip yet?_"_ Moody said gruffly, his voice low. His appearance was disguised under polyjuice to resemble an average muggle he had grabbed some hairs from several blocks away, days previous, and yet, he glanced around in paranoia. He wished polyjuice didn't negate the use of his magical eye, even if it was nice to have two real and functioning eyeballs for once.

Caradoc, heavily disguised under a glamour leaned forward across the small table in the muggle bar, a rather seedy place with strippers that would hopefully keep the focus away from them. Even so, they made sure to disguise their conversation, using placement words:_ friends _were Death Eaters.

"Two of them have," Caradoc said, forcing his voice to sound even, as though they were talking about nothing special. He knew it was unlikely there was a Death Eater here, but he couldn't help but worry anyway. He could never be completely sure he had avoided detection, that he hadn't been found out, that he hadn't been followed... So much depended on this mission. To truly bring an end to Voldemort's influence, his supporters had to be found. Like Moody, his eyes darted around and a light sheen of sweat was visible on his face. The stress of this mission was clearly getting to him. "The rest decided to stay awhile longer." He took a long sip from his muggle whisky.

Fervent interest flickered in Moody's eyes, though other than that, he showed no reaction to Caradoc's real message: '_I've found two Death Eaters. The whereabouts of the others are still unknown.'_ "Did anything else interesting happen this week?"

"Do you remember that butcher's shop you recommended?" Caradoc asked. "Well, I checked it out, and you were right - they do really good work...best meat I've ever tasted." Moody smirked as he inwardly decoded Caradoc's sentence. The butcher's shop, in other words Walden Macnair. The man had long been suspected of being a Death Eater, but no one had been able to prove it - and now, Caradoc, on Moody's prompting, had found proof. "Of course," Caradoc continued, "it may have been a onetime thing. I may need to buy from there a few more times to make sure."

Moody frowned. That was less good. So Caradoc's proof may not hold up in court right now. He needed more evidence to back it up. "Take as much time you need," he said. "Our bet isn't going anywhere," he added to lend some credence to their conversation, and to ask Caradoc whether he was really up for this: the man looked stressed out. "Maybe you should just admit defeat now and save yourself some trouble."

Caradoc's eyes narrowed. "You know I hate to do that. Besides, even if you win the bet, I'll still get some good meat out of the bargain." _'I'm not going to quit - not until I have more information that can benefit our side.'_

"Alright," Moody said. "But don't overeat." _'Don't get in over your head.'_

"I won't. I've made a couple of new acquaintances this week - I can always invite them over to dinner." _'I've found two other Death Eaters as well. Hopefully, I can help bring them in too.'_

"Don't forget to invite me," Moody said. "I'm always up for meeting new _friends."_

Caradoc smirked. "How about next week, same time as today? We can meet up and have a drink first."

"Here?"

"Why not?" Caradoc stood up, nodding towards the stage, leering as though he appreciated the view of the strippers even though in reality he couldn't care less. "The entertainment's good. By the way," he added and pulled out a napkin from one of his pockets, "you've got foam around your mouth." Caradoc threw the napkin at Moody and then walked away.

Moody caught the napkin, wiped his mouth, and then stuffed it into his own pocket, and exited the smoky bar. After walking a few blocks and making sure he hadn't been followed, he apparated home. Once safely back in his own house, he pulled out the napkin and pointed his wand at it, mumbling a revealing spell under his breath, and then the password they had come to an agreement of: _"The Phoenix rises."_

Spidery lines of Caradoc's handwriting appeared: , Jugson, followed by an address in Newhaven. Moody's eyebrows rose to his hairline even as the effect of the polyjuice wore off. This, he had not expected. Not only had Caradoc found the hideout of two Death Eaters, but they were both well-known. Avery Senior was even one of Voldemort's first supporters, one of the first members of his inner-circle. And Jugson was also relatively high-ranked.

Moody looked to the bottom of the napkin where he found the names of the other two Death Eaters Caradoc had discovered: A. Carrow x2. The veteran Auror frowned. So there were two Death Eaters called the Carrows, both with names that began with an A. That more than likely made them siblings, maybe even twins. Unfortunately, Moody didn't recognise the name - hopefully, Dumbledore would.

"Albus Dumbledore's office!" Moody shouted as he stepped into his fireplace after he threw in a handful of floo-powder. First, Dumbledore would get this information...and then, the Aurors could move in on Avery and Jugson, before they could move location and Caradoc's information became useless. Hopefully, another successful arrest could be made today.

* * *

Two hours later, a force of Aurors and Hit-Wizards closed in on a small building in the port of Newhaven. Avery Senior and Jugson, who were planning to cross the English Channel and escape to France after a night's rest, were taken by complete surprise. However, so were the Aurors, when they realised not two, but three Death Eaters were on the premises. Even so, it did not take long for Jugson to be arrested and the third Death Eater, whom they recognised as Avery Junior, dressed in only his nightclothes, wasn't putting up a fight at all: it took very little to disarm and subdue him. Avery Senior's defeat seemed inevitable and that's when most Death Eaters would have given up.

But the Aurors were once again taken by surprise when the older Death Eater turned his own wand upon himself and spoke the killing curse, rather than surrender. For a moment, everyone only stared at the man in shock. And then, Avery Junior finally began to struggle, seemingly snapping out of the numbness he had seemed to be in throughout the entire raid, and he began to kick and bite and scratch the Aurors holding him in order to get away and was quickly stunned.

* * *

**15 December**

Moody, back in his muggle disguise, checked his watch for what must be the twentieth time. Caradoc was late. Over two hours late. So far, the Auror had been forced to _politely _refuse the company of at least six different strippers - two of them together - and yet their refusal to take a hint wasn't what bothered him the most. No, the fact that Caradoc was _two hours late _did.

On a mission like Caradoc's, where discretion was key and it was important not to be followed, being up to an hour late, maybe even an hour and a half, could be explained. But once you passed the two hour mark, it always meant something had gone wrong - something that you couldn't get yourself out of. And Moody had no idea where Caradoc was planning on going, where he'd been, what people he was going to meet... All he had were names, the Carrows, names that meant nothing: not even Dumbledore had recognised them - they were not even on the Hogwarts registry of old students.

Another hour went by. Moody left - what else could he do? - and then reported to Dumbledore, who immediately turned grave once he heard Caradoc had not shown up. The man might grouch and grumble, but when it came down to it, he was more trustworthy and more punctual than most. Both Moody and Dumbledore knew that he must have been found out and captured - and with Voldemort's followers on the edge to desperation with their Master gone and a majority of them being hunted down and sent to prison, it was likely he was dead.

The war might be considered over - but that did not mean no more soldiers would fall. The Longbottoms had been proof of that - and now Caradoc was as well.

* * *

**17 December**

"Knock, knock." Buffy knocked tiredly on her boss, Marion Jones' office. She had barely slept these past two days. Once she got the news about Caradoc's 'disappearance' it had been nearly impossible to sleep, and instead, she'd remained awake for two nights in a row, crying silently, crying without tears, curled up in Remus' safe embrace. Another friend dead - and this time, she didn't even know what had happened.

And the worst thing was that his death felt meaningless: a rush trial had been done for Walden Macnair after Moody arrested him based on Caradoc's information the day after his disappearance. But with Caradoc missing, there was no actual proof and Macnair was released - with the Ministry's apologies, and Moody got a dressing down. The Carrows, two other Death Eaters Caradoc had identified, were also dismissed as a lead - no one had ever even heard of them, so no one knew where to start looking and it was likely they too would get away. They were most probably not even in the country anymore.

Of the three Death Eaters found in Newhaven thanks to Caradoc's information, only Jugson had been sentenced to Azkaban, but he was only given twenty years. Avery Senior escaped justice by committing suicide, and his son had been acquitted of any crime, after he claimed his father had put him under the Imperius curse. And, unluckily enough for justice, old traces of it were found on his father's wand when it was tested, 'proving' this statement.

Buffy had never felt angrier - Caradoc had died for information that in the end made very little difference. And yet, as angry as she was at the Ministry, she was even angrier at Caradoc himself. He'd said he would be alright, that he wouldn't die. Buffy knew her thoughts were unreasonable - she knew he hadn't done it on purpose, but he was the only good friend she had had left, other than Remus, of course, and he was her husband - their relationship was completely different. Samantha. Michaela Duncan and Nick Vandom. Mandy. All the Order members she'd known. Lily. James. Frank. Alice. And now Caradoc. There were just so many losses...

"Buffy, come in!" Marion greeted. "I'm glad you came by." Her eyes glittered happily and Buffy forced herself to smile, opening her mouth to ask the question she'd had on her mind for days, but before she could, Marion spoke again: "Before you go on holiday, I've got something for you." The Healer opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a formal looking parchment and held it out to Buffy, who took it in confusion. Then, she glanced down at it and her eyes widened as she caught sight of the title:

_HEALER CERTIFICATE  
BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS_

Buffy could only gawk as she stared down at the certificate with joyful disbelief. She had made it. She was actually a Healer. There it was, green ink on cream parchment, the proof that she was a certificated Healer with leave to work on Creature-Induced injuries without supervision, and spell-damage in the field in case of emergencies.

In a way, it felt even more special than graduating from Hogwarts and passing her N.E.W.T.s had, because going to Hogwarts for a year had sort of been just handed to her by Dumbledore. Sure, she had studied furiously for her N.E.W.T.s, but the biggest reason for that was to get into Healer training – and in a way they had been a failure. She was proud she had passed all her subjects despite the fact she had only had a single year of magical schooling under her belt at that point, but her grades hadn't gotten her into the program – a successful interview had, _despite _her N.E.W.T.s results, which had been below the normal acceptance rate for Healer training.

But this, the certificate, she had truly _earned._ It hadn't been handed to her, like her Hogwarts schooling, or even her Slayer calling (not like that always felt like a gift…). Once she'd gotten into the Healer program, she had worked hard for this, truly wanted it. And now she had it.

Buffy also knew there was only one person she wanted to celebrate with. Remus. He was the only thing that made sense to her lately, the only one she could depend on, the only one she still had left and the only reason she hadn't had a breakdown. Marrying him, even with all the grief surrounding them, was the best decision she'd ever made.

"Well?" Marion interrupted her inner musings with a smile. "Don't just stand there!"

"I…thank you," Buffy gushed, cradling the certificate to her chest. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Don't thank me, Buffy," Healer Jones smiled. "You've earned that license. You've been a delight to teach and a great aid to St. Mungo's, both on and off duty. You've saved several lives during your time with us and I will be very happy to have you on staff – to call you my friend and co-worker, and not just my friend and Trainee Healer. I'll expect you bright and early tomorrow, to work out a regular schedule for your shifts. But right now, I expect you want to get home and celebrate with your man. Didn't you get married a month ago?"

Buffy nodded, still in a bit of a daze. "Yes. But…" she bit her lip, suddenly remembering her actual errand coming in to Marion's office. The Healer permit had taken her completely by surprise, temporarily wiping all other thought from her mind. "Before I leave, can you check something for me?" For almost two months now, she had throwing up at various intervals. The first time it happened, she'd been eating food she'd cooked with Lily and had thought it was food poisoning – she was, after all, a disaster in the kitchen. But then it happened a second time, and a third, and so on, and suspicion began to rear its ugly head. Still, she had dismissed the possibility of it being pregnancy symptoms.

But then her period had stopped coming, but even that she'd been able to dismiss since it had been irregular anyway ever since she'd been called as the Slayer. But then, after the last full moon, Remus had remarked Moony had noticed her smell had changed, and that was the final nail in the coffin. If she'd kept denying it then, she would have been an idiot.

Buffy suspected her reluctance to believe she was pregnant was because she was scared. She desired a child, yes – when Harry had been born, she had even given Remus a hint that it was something she wanted in the future. But it had still only been a vague idea, something she thought wouldn't happen for years, something she didn't have to think about until _later._ But now, it seemed later was already here, and Buffy felt she knew nothing about being a good mother. As much as she loved her own, Joyce hadn't understood her or her calling until she was gone and it was too late.

More than ever, she wished Lily was still alive, so she could ask her if she'd been just as scared as she was when she learned she was pregnant with Harry. Of course, Lily wasn't a Slayer, but Buffy figured she could cut back on her slaying little by little, until she got too large and encumbered to fight, and then use magic. And it wasn't like she would be a single parent, and she'd been more than ready to try and get custody of Harry. The only difference was that this was about her own child, and perhaps that was the real issue:

Buffy wasn't sure how Remus would react: she'd seen his face when she mentioned the possibility of children – he'd looked terrified – and even though he had quickly masked his expression, Buffy had still _felt _his fear through their bond. But with that fear, there had also been hope. There was no doubt Remus wanted children – he adored kids - but just like her, he'd never entertained the possibility. And Buffy was certain it all came down to fear he would pass on his lycanthropy, or that his condition would somehow make him an unfit parent.

Buffy hoped that the protection of their soulmate bond coupled with his newfound understanding of his inner-wolf and that he'd been at least partly in charge of his own mind during the last few transformations, that fear wasn't enough to overpower him.

Marion's happy smile disappeared, a worried expression taking its place. "Of course. Is something wrong?"

Buffy smiled weakly. "I think I might be pregnant," she admitted. "And I'm too much of a coward to do the diagnostic charm on myself."

"What do you want the result to be?" Marion asked kindly.

"I want it to be positive," she admitted. "But since I got called as the Slayer, having a child is something I thought would never happen to me. Even when I started throwing up, I almost immediately dismissed it as a possibility because I didn't want to get my hopes up."

Marion nodded. "I can understand that. How long have you been showing symptoms?"

"I started throwing up about two months ago, I think."

Marion grinned at her. "An out of wedlock baby, then," she teased. "Alright, let's check."

The Healer pulled out her wand and Buffy closed her eyes, not wanting to see her do the charm. "Well, congratulations," the Healer said after a few seconds and Buffy opened her eyes to see her smile. "It's positive."

Buffy took a deep breath, nodding. "I guess I already knew that."

"Do you want to know how far along you are?"

Buffy nodded again. "Yes, please."

Marion did another charm and Buffy watched with baited breath for the results to arrive. Then, her conception date was there, in gold lettering floating on air: _28 September 1981._

Buffy blushed, remembering that day well. That had been the day of hers and Remus shopping spree – and it had been a spree, she was a bit embarrassed to admit – and they'd both been in a very high spirits once they got back, Buffy gushing over her new shoes, Remus his new books, and then, they'd just thrown their shopping bags aside and – her blush deepened. They'd christened their new sofa quite thoroughly.

"The day after you got your Order of Merlin," Marion grinned at her. "I'm guessing you were in a celebratory mood around that time."

"Yes, we were," Buffy mumbled. "Thank you, Marion."

"You're welcome. Now get going! And have a happy Christmas!"

* * *

"Hey, you're home early," Remus said brightly as Buffy entered the Lupin cottage - truly _their_ cottage now. "And you look...kind of dazed." He frowned. "Are you alright? I know hearing about Caradoc - "

" - I'm a fully fledged Healer," Buffy interrupted him. "I got certified today. And I'm pregnant," she added.

Remus, his brain still stuck on Buffy's first piece of news, grinned widely at her. "That's great, Buffy! I always knew you could do it! I'm so proud of you! You're a Healer! This is amazing - " he abruptly paused and jerked back in shock as his mind slowly caught up with the final piece of Buffy's news. "Wait, what? Could we rewind a bit? Please."

Buffy's lips twitched, amused by Remus' reaction, though she was also worried how that reaction would changed once he processed everything. She knew it was likely he would become at least somewhat frantic, if not straight-out upset, eventually. "I'm pregnant," she repeated. "Almost twelve weeks." She bit her lip as Remus only stared at her, and then, his gaze slowly travelled downwards until it reached her stomach. It still looked flat, but as she placed a palm against it, she could swear there was a slight curve she hadn't noticed before. But perhaps it was only her imagination. "Remus? Say something. Please."

Remus' head snapped up and he stepped forwards, pulling her into an embrace. "I don't know what to say." Buffy tensed, preparing herself for the freak-out, or worse, denial. But it didn't come. "I'm...I'm_ happy,_ Buffy." Buffy pulled away, looking up at his face with an astonished expression. She found only love and honesty there. And in the back of her mind, she only found an overwhelming amount of elation coming from her husband. Oh, there was some fear there too, but it was so small of an amount... "I won't say I'm not scared, because I am, but Buffy...I could never be upset about this. It's...our child. We're having a baby." He began to smile. "I'm...frankly, I'm kind of ecstatic."

Buffy grinned. "I can tell," she said and tapped the side of her head.

Remus chuckled. "And I can tell you were worried how I'd react."

Buffy smiled sheepishly and Remus gave her a long, intense kiss. "We have to celebrate," he said. "Your Healer's certificate too, of course, but we're having a_ baby! _I think that deserves some cake. Chocolate!"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Do we even have any chocolate left in the house? You go through it like crazy."

Remus shrugged. "I'll just head down to the village and buy some more." He gave her another knee-weakening kiss before he began to head out. "Don't go anywhere!"

Buffy laughed. "Where would I possibly go?" she called after him, and then let out a content sigh, sinking down into an armchair happily, a hand still pressed against her belly. She smiled.

* * *

**Outside time**

The Fates were worried. Seven of them, those of the highest rank within the Powers That Be stood gathered around the well of sight, which allowed them to see what was going on within the worlds. Currently, its view was settled on a very particular dimension, one that was the cause of all the worry: the First had emerged there with barely a warning and was now wreaking chaos, its focus settled on the Sunnydale Hellmouth.

Because of the instability left after Glory's quest for the Key, the Powers' hold on the dimensional balance had slipped while they were repairing the damage. It had been brief, but it had been enough for the First to surface. This was what had the Fates troubled. Rather than to stand at an even level, the scales were tipped greatly in favour of evil. And the forces of good, the Slayer and her friends were not enough to tip it back.

While Faith Lehane was an excellent Slayer, worthy of the power, she lacked the experience and the mental strength it would take to push the First and its army back into submission. She was too uncertain of herself and her own abilities, a remnant from her lonely childhood and the losses in her life. And that Faith's friends doubted her abilities as well did not help.

Perhaps, if she had something to hold on to, something to fight for, someone to push her forwards...but alas, she did not. Perhaps, if the Key had still been in its human form and by Faith's side, it would be different. But the Key was gone, turned back into intangible energy. And with its disappearance from the Earthly plane, the memories that had been planted and caused the Slayer to protect it had faded.

While that had made it easier for Faith to move on after the Key's disappearance, not allowing her to fall into despairing grief, it also meant the lessons learnt from them were gone also. Now, the girl called Dawn was nothing but a very distant dream, not enough of an influence on the Slayer and her friends to affect the outcome of the approaching Apocalypse.

The forces of good were doomed to failure, unless nothing could be changed to give them a better fighting chance. After a long, intense session, the Fates had decided that this time, they _had _to interfere, or all would be lost. Another champion of good had to be sent to Sunnydale in order to even the odds. Everyone agreed on this – what could not be agreed on, was who would be sent. Finally, a decision had been made, and it was this decision that had another Fate stand a few feet away from the well, displeasure glowing from its ethereal form.

For they had decided to send Buffy Summers.

This young Fate had played a great part in her life by setting it, albeit accidentally, on its current course. It had been his actions that had taken her from her home dimension and to the dimension she now existed. And even though the Powers were supposed to be neutral in all things, he had grown rather emotionally attached to her. When she felt joy, he felt joy. When she grieved, he grieved.

Especially the last couple of years in the Slayers life had been filled with suffering, but now, things were beginning to look up. Buffy Summers was, after all, not alone – she had a soulmate. That the Fates were now planning to rip the two apart just to serve their whim was unfair, to say the least. Yes, she was probably the champion with the biggest chance to win over the First, and yes, the growth and maturity she had gone through during the war against Voldemort would be invaluable against it. But that did not give the Powers the right to use her like a pawn.

He had been the only Fate that had argued for Buffy Summers happiness, for letting her stay undisturbed in the world where she had finally made a home. But he had been ignored. He had then tried to convince the other Fates to take not only Buffy Summers, but Remus Lupin as well – at least that way, they could still be together. But he had been met with loud protests: to send one across dimensions was risky enough, to send two was inconceivable, even if Remus Lupin had made the journey before. But then, it had not been intentional, but due to Glory's reckless actions. And Remus Lupin did not belong in that world, while Buffy Summers at least originated from it.

The young Fate had then pointed out that after all they had done to send her back to the Wizarding World, to return her to Sunnydale once again was unreasonable: after all, the Fates themselves had decreed the Wizarding World was her home now, not Sunnydale. But he had again been rebuffed. Circumstances were much different then, and the desperate times demanded desperate actions. Their word had been final, and that was why the seven most powerful Fates now stood around the well.

As their spiritual fingers dipped into the well, it began to glow, almost blinding the young Fate. A small gap between the worlds, enough for only one person's travel opened – two portals formed, one outside a house on Revello Drive, Sunnydale, and the other inside a cottage in Kent, Britain.

The young Fate closed its eyes in resignation of the new, lonely and unfair course Buffy Summers' life was about to take.

The road was set.

* * *

**17 December, 1981**

A smile played around Buffy's lips where she sat, rubbing her stomach absently, her eyes closed, as she waited for Remus to come back. She didn't know why she had been so worried. Abruptly, he smile slipped from her face as she felt the floor begin to tremble and she jerked upright, quickly getting to her feet. "No..." she whispered, shaking her head in denial. She recognised this feeling. "They promised..."

The entire house was shaking now. Ornaments around the room fell from their places on the walls and shelves. In the cracks left by the floorboards, blue glowed, its light streaming up even as the cracks grew larger and larger, breaking the floor apart, along with the earth. "No..."

Finally, Buffy tried to move, but found herself unable to do so: some force was holding her in place. "No!" The Slayer began to actively struggle. "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME GO!" she screamed, lifting her head upwards. "YOU BASTARDS! YOU SAID THIS WAS MY HOME NOW! YOU PROMISED..." She was suddenly forced to her knees by an overwhelming pressure against her back, and she was forced to close her eyes against the blinding light of the portal, even as she resolutely tried to move away from it.

"BUFFY!"

Buffy's eyes shot open at her husband's call. Remus stood in the doorway, looking out of breath and horrified - it was clear he had begun to run the moment he saw the house shaking in the distance - a shopping bag hazardously discarded by his feet.

"Remus..."

Remus was moving towards her, one arm outstretched, his other holding on tightly to the doorframe. Buffy reached out for him with both her hands, straining, reaching - their fingers almost touched - and then, the portal was sucking her in. The last thing she saw and heard before the world started spinning, her vision filled with blinding, crackling light was Remus throwing himself towards the portal to follow her - too late - and his anguished cry of rage and denial.

_'I'm sorry...'_

* * *

**17 December, 2002**

Faith, her face badly bruised and bloody, sat outside on the porch of 1630 Revello Drive, trying to desperately light a cigarette with a trembling hand. The windows to the house were closed, but with her Slayer senses, she could quite clearly hear the voices of the people gathered in the dining room:

"...We could make plans as we always do, but the truth is, Faith _was _our plan. There is no back up," Giles could be heard saying.

"We could call Angel," Wesley could be heard suggesting. Faith's lips twitched despite herself: she could almost see the expressions on the other's faces in her mind's eye at that suggestion.

"Ask Deadboy? I don't think so," Xander muttered predictably. "He would just gloat."

"We could use all the help we can get," Wesley said firmly. "To let _pride _get in the way is foolish. And he did come to our aid when we were up against Glory – "

" – And what a great help he was," Xander said sarcastically. "Look, I'm not saying he would be useless, but we're up against _the First._ If what Faith told us about it is true, the last time, it almost got Angel to kill himself. Well, kill him more. And it made Spike go nuts for awhile. Let's not _feed_ the First - clearly, it's quite easy for it control vamps with souls."

"Xan's got a point," Anya said. "And what we're up against... Well, you saw Faith – she's beaten up like a rag-doll. Plain old strength is not going to cut it this time."

Outside, Faith flinched. "Giles, she looks bad," she could hear Willow whisper. "Really bad. What do we do if she can't fight? If she can't beat this thing?"

Suddenly, the ground beneath Faith's feet began to tremble – not by much, but enough to make her notice. Slowly, she stood up, putting out her cigarette. Her eyes widened when a blue vortex slowly began to take shape a couple of feet above her. A portal. Despite the fact her muscles were aching, that she was probably bleeding internally, Faith took up a fighting stance. If this was another part of the First's arsenal...

Suddenly, someone fell out, crumbling to the ground and Faith's stance immediately grew slack in shock and recognition. "Buffy?" The portal had already closed, but Faith barely noticed as she stepped forward, kneeling by her sister Slayer. The terror and despair that had been filling her ever since her encounter with that uber-strong super-vampire began to be replaced by something else: hope.

She and Buffy, while they had had a rocky start, had grown quite close during the other's visit to Sunnydale, and Faith had been sad to see her go. But now, she was back. She wasn't alone anymore. Two Slayers to bear the burden, two Slayers to fight the First. It wouldn't know what hit it.

The Scoobies were running out on the porch now, words of exclamation and surprise escaping them when they noticed the blonde Slayer. They all surrounded her and Faith, large smiles of welcome on their faces.

Those smiles abruptly disappeared, however, when Buffy took one look at them all and burst out crying.

* * *

**20 December, 1981 **

In a magical dwelling called the Burrow, on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole, Molly Weasley let out a terrified scream when she found a small grey rat with long bald tail sleeping in her pantry while she was in the middle of Christmas preparations. The rat woke up with a loud squeak, looking terrified and only barely managed to avoid the frying pan the woman tried to hit him with.

"What is it, Molly?" a thin man dressed in long shabby robes asked, and the rat squeezed himself further back into a dark corner of a shelf.

"A RAT! In my pantry! Oh, Arthur, get rid of it!" Molly exclaimed, clutching at the man's – Arthur's – shirt.

"Oh, can I see?" a five-year-old boy piped up. Squeezing himself in between the two adults, he stood on his tiptoes to try and catch a sight of the rat, his blue eyes blinking curiously behind a pair of glasses. "Oh, mum, can't I keep him, please?"

"No, Percy," Molly said sternly.

"But Bill has an owl!"

"Errol is our family owl, Percy and you know that," Arthur said, patting Percy's shoulder.

Percy pouted. "I never get anything - I hate being poor!" He grumbled. "Mum, pleeeease? Pretty please?" Inside the rat, a small glimmer of hope began to rise. To be kept as a pet…

The rat – better known as Wormtail to some, and Peter Pettigrew when he was in his normal, human form – knew that even though he had managed to trick Sirius, it didn't mean he was safe. If it got out he was alive, the Ministry would be after him for answers. And since it was he who had told of the Dark Lord of the Potters' address, the Death Eaters would doubtlessly hold him responsible for the Dark Lord's downfall and would try to seek revenge.

A life as a household-pet sounded like a very fine and safe prospect for him, especially after spending the last month on the run, out in the cold, scavenging food out of trash to survive while desperately trying to avoid predators. And this was clearly a wizarding family…with red-hair…hmm…red hair meant the Weasleys!

The rat's hopes rose even further as he realised living here meant easy access to important wizarding news. And the Weasleys were tight with Dumbledore – which meant a chance of overhearing sensitive information that might save his life if he should ever be caught by the Death Eaters who had escaped justice.

The rat tried to make himself look as small and harmless as possible when he saw the woman – Mrs. Weasley – glance at him again, shuddering slightly. "It might have deceases…"

"No!" Percy protested. "Look at him! He's all soft and thin and small and helpless!"

"Perhaps it will be alright for Percy to keep it, Molly," Arthur said carefully. Molly took another look at the rat, and let out a loud sigh in agreement.

"Fine, Percy, you can keep the rat. But you will have to feed it yourself. And give it a bath, and for Merlin's sake keep it away from our food!"

"Yes!" Percy exclaimed, reaching forward and grabbing the rat in both hands. "I'm going to call you Scabbers."

Peter's nose twitched as he mulled the name over in his head. Scabbers? He could live with that…

* * *

**31 December**

It was New Years Eve, but Remus saw no reason to celebrate. Buffy had been gone for two weeks and he had no idea when she would come back. If she even could come back... This was not how he had seen their future. How had it unravelled so quickly? Both of them had been so happy, ready to celebrate Buffy's pregnancy... And now it was highly possible that Remus would never even get to see their child. Why had he gone down to the stupid village anyway? If he'd been there, he could have stopped her from being forced to leave, or gone with her... But Buffy was gone, and he was here, alone... she was out of his reach... And so was Harry.

On Christmas day, Remus had gone to visit Harry at his relatives' place in Surrey, with a Christmas gift and to see how he was doing. However, he'd only just appeared on the street when Dumbledore had showed up, alerted to his presence by the wards around Privet Drive.

The Headmaster had made it quite clear that Remus was not to approach Harry again, that the boy should live 'a normal life' for as long as possible, with interference from the wizarding world - including gifts and letters. A mail ward had been erected around the property so the saviour of the wizarding world would not be disturbed by 'fans.'

He'd told Remus that Harry was safe at his new home, that the blood wards erected by Lily's sacrifice would keep anyone who meant him harm out. He'd also told Remus about a specific ward set up by the Ministry which prevented any werewolves and other dark creatures from stepping foot on the property - if Remus tried, he'd be forcefully, and painfully ejected. The same would happen to Buffy if she ever returned, since the Slayer's powers were based on the essence of a demon, which would be enough to activate the ward.

Dejected, and knowing the battle was lost before it had even begun, Remus had left, leaving the gift in Dumbledore's hands, with the Headmaster's promise that he would give it to Petunia to give to Harry.

Just as Buffy and his unborn child, and Harry were out of his reach, so was his little sister, Elizabeth. The Baddocks, the family which had taken her in, lived in a huge stone mansion, also heavily warded which made it impossible for Remus to approach it and any letters would certainly be stopped by Elizabeth's parents before they could reach her. He'd lost everyone he cared about, except possibly one: Jasper Thorne, the young werewolf Remus had helped get out of Greyback's pack, who had then been adopted by the Lowells, Samantha's family. They now lived in Australia...

For a moment or two, Remus entertained the thought of moving there - but it left as quickly as it came. He had to stay in Britain, in this cottage. If Buffy returned, she would return from the place she'd left - here.

Remus glanced down at the griffin figurine that he held in his hand, the small glass ornament pulsing slightly with a white light where its heart would have been if the griffin had been real. With their mental bond gone, this was the only way Remus could see what Buffy was feeling, and he thanked Merlin that Buffy had for some reason been carrying her wolf figurine with her when she fell into the portal. But he couldn't help but wonder how long the charm work would last, with the great distance between them: the white colour, which indicated Buffy was feeling frustrated, should have been clear and bright, but instead, it was dull and cloudy.

He glanced out of the window when he heard the sound of fireworks, staring at the colourful show being sent up above the village. Then, he glanced back down at the small glass griffin. The colour had now turned a faded, murky black. Buffy was tense and angry. "Happy New Year," he muttered sarcastically at it, squeezing it in his hand, knowing that, even though they were parted by dimensions, he and Buffy felt the same way.

* * *

**31 December, 2002**

Buffy sat outside on the stairs of Revello Drive, staring up at the night sky. The inhabitants of Sunnydale were already filling it with fireworks, but Buffy felt no joy in watching. Inside the house, the Scoobies and the Potentials that had arrived were having their own celebration - even with the threat from the First hanging over them, they were determined to try to relax and have fun.

With a frown, Buffy remembered her arrival to Sunnydale two weeks ago, and the explanation of the threat the First posed to them and to humanity. They'd been so relieved - Faith especially - to have her arrive, and Buffy wished she could share their enthusiasm. Buffy was sure that, had she been given more time, Faith would have worked things out without her. As it was, to Buffy, it felt a bit like she'd 'dethroned' Faith from her rightful spot by coming here. If she had been in Faith's shoes, Buffy was sure she would have been at least a little put out by the Powers apparent lack of belief in her: by being sent backup in the form of another Slayer, how could one interpret it any other way?

Luckily enough, Faith hadn't felt that way. The First was the most dangerous enemy Faith ever had to face, and when Buffy had gotten back, Faith had been at her lowest point, beaten down, and all she'd felt was relief that she no longer had to carry the burden of being the 'leader,' the one everyone counted on to 'fix things,' alone.

Buffy admitted that she'd been of some help: things had gotten off to a great start, when she'd almost immediately realised that one of the Potential Slayers was really the First, thanks to her spider-sense going crazy. This had immediately earned her the trust and admiration from the rest of the Potentials, despite her pregnant state – well, from everyone except a bratty potential called Kennedy, who seemed to believe she was in charge, and another one called Rona, who did little besides complain.

But as much as she disliked Kennedy for pointing out that her pregnancy made her more of a liability than help, Buffy also couldn't help but feel she had a point: it wasn't like she'd be able to add any muscle for long, not unless she wanted to put her child's life at risk, which she definitely didn't: Buffy already loved her child, more than anything else.

She pressed a hand gently against her abdomen, which seemed to swell more every day, proof that the life she and Remus had created was healthy and growing. No matter what, Buffy knew she would put her child's well-being first, which only added to her doubt that she'd be of any help in the battle: the Scoobies needed her head in the game, but all Buffy could think about what was she had left behind. How long would she be stuck here, separated from Remus, her _husband? _Separated from her child's father? Buffy didn't even know whether he or she would ever get to meet him.

Carefully, Buffy reached into her pocket with her other hand and pulled out the wolf figurine made of glass that she kept there, a gift from Remus on her eighteenth birthday, and still among her most treasured possessions. Its colour was currently a faded bronze, indicating Remus felt restless. She'd forgotten she'd taken it with her when she'd gone to St. Mungo's for work, knowing what she was going to ask Marion, and wanting the comforting presence the figurine represented. Even with Remus' emotions in the back of her head, the wolf had been something physical to hold on to while she waited to find out whether or not she was pregnant.

As she hadn't taken it out of her pocket when she'd gotten home, it had come with her through the portal. Buffy was extremely grateful it hadn't shattered during her trip, and, unlike during her other visit to Sunnydale, she actually had her wand with her this time. So perhaps she wouldn't be _completely_ useless, but she still didn't know what the Fates - and it must have been the Fates who sent her here - had been thinking. She'd been _happy,_ damn it! They'd promised she would not have to leave the wizarding world again, once she chose it, and Remus. So much for that promise, she supposed.

She'd always known Fate was a bitch.

Glancing down at the wolf figurine again, Buffy smiled humourlessly when the colour changed to a cloudy black. The colours, albeit somewhat weakened due to distance, should have been comforting. Even when there were dimensions between them, Remus' charm work held, as proof of the strength of their love. Instead, it only served to remind Buffy of how huge that distance was, and how the life they could have had together had slipped through their fingers, just when she thought they had it in their grasp. She feared that their child would only know its father through memories, and memories faded with time, just like the colours had on the wolf figurine. She didn't want to forget Remus. The very thought of it terrified her.

"Happy New Year, my ass," Buffy muttered.

* * *

_**Published: **23/12 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

- A wrapper of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum is what Alice gives Neville whenever he comes to visit her and Frank at St. Mungo's. While J.K. Rowling has said that does not hold any special significance, I decided to make it more poignant by having her last 'sane' moments involve such a wrapper, as well as the gum being the final happy moment she shared with her son. As such, her giving such wrappers to Neville, to me, signifies Alice trying to emotionally connect to him in the only way she remembers.

- We all know of the problems Neville has with his memory in canon, especially during the first few books. Here, the memory-charm I had applied to him was me attempting to give that an underlying 'reason' which would also explain why those issues disappear later on in the series, though obviously, the confidence he finds due to Harry and Dumbledore's army may also have played a large part. In any case, I don't find it unlike an 'obliviate' would have been cast on Neville if he really did witness his parents being tortured.

- Newhaven is a town in East Sussex, on the coast of the English Channel, and is a ferry port for services to France.

- The episode Buffy (Faith here) is beat up by the Bringer is the tenth episode of the seventh season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and while in canon, Buffy walks inside and interrupts the Scoobies meeting with new determination, here, Faith stays outside and the interruption comes instead in the form of Buffy coming from the portal, giving them new hope.

- " – And what a great help he was," Xander said sarcastically. "Look, I'm not saying he would be useless, but we're up against _the First._ If what Faith told us about it is true, the last time, it almost got Angel to kill himself. Well, kill him more. And it made Spike go nuts for awhile. Let's not _feed_ the First - clearly, it's quite easy for it control vamps with souls." – Xander refers to episode 3x10: Amends, in which we make our first acquaintance with the First (though in canon, Buffy obviously has the place Faith now occupies in the series, minus the romantic aspects), as well as several episodes in s. 7 where Spike was killing again due to its influence.

- Remus and Buffy's griffin and wolf figurines are first mentioned in Road of Innocence chapter 21.

- The Death Eater trials/names of the Death Eaters referred to in this chapter can partly be found in/are also mentioned in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire/Order of the Phoenix/Half-Blood Prince.

- Considering Harry had no idea he was a wizard and had not gotten any letters of any kind, despite his obvious fame post the first war, a mail-ward of some kind was the only thing that made sense. That same ward, as well as other restrictions, would also account for him not hearing anything from his parents' old friends, like Remus, until much later in his life.


	30. Time

DISCLAIMER  
This story is in no way associated with, or makes any claim to, Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other fandom/celebrity/anything else you may recognize. It all belongs to their respective owners. No money is being made from this story which is purely written for entertainment.

* * *

**July****, 2003**

Buffy sat on a bed inside Hyperion hotel in Los Angeles, a content smile on her face as she carefully stroked the cheek of the tiny bundle she held in her arms, wrapped tightly into a pink blanket. By her bedside sat Faith, a thoughtful expression on her face as she looked down at the infant.

Buffy's smile widened as the newborn twitched a little in her sleep. So much had happened since she got sent back to her old world. It hadn't been an awful experience – if it weren't for the threat of the First and his Bringers, and the fact that Remus was not with her, one could almost call it pleasant. Like with her first return to Sunnydale, things had been awkward between her and her friends, but as weeks passed, that tension had slowly disappeared.

Some days, Buffy had almost been able to fool herself into thinking it was just like old times... But then, her growing belly would remind her that it wasn't, not at all. She shouldn't be here, even though Buffy had to admit she hadn't been completely useless, despite her pregnancy.

Soon after her arrival, Buffy had come up with a plan that had given Faith her confidence back: a Gladiator-like showdown had been arranged between Faith and the Turok-Han that had injured her, Faith taking him down with a piece of wire around its neck, proving once and for all that their enemy was not unbeatable and that Faith was THE Slayer. Soon afterwards, Buffy had joined Faith in a rescue of Spike (and weren't those words Buffy never thought would escape her lips?) from the First's clutches.

After that, however, things had begun to go downhill again. Buffy got to learn that in the year that had passed since her last visit, Willow had gone all darkside when Tara had been killed, after Amy Madison, whom Buffy still remembered as a shy and kind blonde who wouldn't harm a fly, performed a hex on her. It was only thanks to Kennedy that Willow had snapped out of it, which was also the only reason that Buffy could stand her.

Other crazy things had also gone down, including a shocking betrayal by Giles in a set-up to kill Spike. Spike had, after Faith and Buffy rescued him, surprisingly turned into somewhat of a confidant. Faith and Spike were even closer, having bonded over cigarettes, booze and violence. Because of this, both Slayers had been very upset with Giles - they needed all the muscle they could get against the First, especially as Buffy entered her final stretch of pregnancy, making it harder for her to even move around.

Things had only gotten worse when the First brought in another player in his arsenal – an insane priest called Caleb with incredible strength. Two Potentials had been killed and Xander had lost an eye in the well-intended, but ultimately fool-hardy and badly executed, plan to take Caleb out. For a long time after that, the Potentials had doubted Faith's ability to lead, since she had been the one to bring them to him, even though Buffy had helped her come up with the plan. She felt she was just as much to blame and resolutely rebuffed the attempts of a mutiny meant to evict Faith from her rightful spot as Head Slayer.

Displeased by this, Kennedy had later sneaked out with a group of Potentials to attack the First's armoury, planning to come back victorious and thereby prove she was better fit to lead, even though she wasn't a full Slayer. Needless to say, it had been a trap – a bomb had taken them by surprise, and only Faith's timely intervention had saved them from the approaching Turok-Hans. This immediately regained the Potentials' trust and Kennedy's reluctant appreciation, while Buffy put her healing skills to use on the Potentials who had been injured by the explosion.

Armed with a Scythe, a powerful weapon that they later learned had been forged centuries ago by a female order called the Guardians, Faith finally put an end to Caleb's existence. And then the First's plans had finally come to an end when everyone, besides Buffy, who'd been waiting outside Sunnydale High in a school bus, entered the Hellmouth itself to defeat its army of Turok-Han. The Scythe had been used to channel the Slayer power and give it to_ all_ the Potentials, and Spike had worn an amulet from Angel that had given them the second edge they needed to win the battle: the First's army had been defeated, literally buried beneath the town as it collapsed due to the power of the amulet, leaving only a giant crater in its wake, taking Spike with it.

"You do realise you_ still _haven't named her, right?" Faith pointed out and Buffy's head jerked up, having forgotten her presence while lost in her thoughts. "It's been three days – don't you think it's time to give her a name, before she gets stuck with being called_ baby_ for all eternity - this isn't _Dirty Dancing,_ you know."

Buffy expelled a deep, thoughtful breath. "I know."

"So?" Faith asked out loud, when several more seconds went by without Buffy saying anything else. "What are you going to name her, B?"

Buffy pursed her lips, looking down at her daughter, hoping a name would come to her just by looking at that sweet face. She hadn't thought much of names – she had hoped she would have been back in the wizarding world before the baby was born, where she could decide names together with Remus. That had not happened, but Buffy was no longer depressed over that fact since she now knew she would get to go back eventually.

Buffy had always hoped that was the case: ever since she had been forcibly sent back to Sunnydale, she had had several repeats of the prophetic dreams she had had in the wizarding world. And with every repeat, Buffy had begun to realise that her part there could not be over. After all, the powers would hardly bother to send her recurring dreams about a future that definitely took place in the wizarding world if there was nothing she could do to stop or change them, which she definitely couldn't as long as she was stuck in Sunnydale. Her hopes had been given foundation, when, the night after the battle in Sunnydale, Buffy had gotten a visit from the Fates in a dream.

Immediately, Buffy had chewed out the Fates for giving her no warning before sending her back to Sunnydale, for forcing her apart from Remus, her soulmate, even after they had promised that the wizarding world was meant to be her permanent home. To their credit, the Fates had looked contrite, but had told her it had been necessary. Buffy had immediately pointed out that she felt that she hadn't been able to contribute much in Sunnydale due to her pregnancy, and that she was sure Faith would have managed just fine without her. The Fates had then showed her a vision of what could have happened if she _hadn't _arrived:

The Gladiator-style throw-down between Faith and the Turok-Han that had injured her would still have occurred, but, because Faith still doubted herself, she would be unable to defeat it, and instead, Willow was forced to intervene to save her life. The trust the Potentials – and the other Scoobies – had in Faith would have almost completely disappeared, and one of the Potentials eventually committed suicide. Faith would still have managed to rescue Spike from the First, but Giles would have later _succeeded_ in his plan to kill him. And when the mutiny came following the failed attack on Caleb, Faith would have been thrown out, Kennedy taking over as leader.

Faith would still have gone back to Caleb's stronghold, but instead of succeeding in getting the Scythe, she would have been killed by Caleb. With no Faith available to intervene against the attacking Turok-Han following the explosion in the First's stronghold, almost all the Potentials accompanying Kennedy would have been killed, including Kennedy herself. Only a Potential named Vi would have survived, called as the new Slayer and imbued with the Slayer's powers during the ambush, which occurred at the same time as Faith's death.

Without the Scythe, everyone would have been sitting ducks when Caleb attacked Revello Drive, and only Angel's surprise visit gave them the upper hand and made it possible to take him down. Putting their heads together and counting on the amulet to save them, the Scoobies still came up with the plan to go into the Hellmouth. But with Spike dust, Angel had to wear the amulet, and since they still had no Scythe and didn't even know of its existence, Willow could not use it to trigger all the Potential's Slayers.

Besides Vi, and Willow, who was still scared of her own power due to her previous bout with evil, only Angel was the only one with any strength worth of note. But one newly called, inexperienced Slayer, one encumbered and grieving witch and one vampire, ensouled or not, can't do much against an army. Angel was dusted before the amulet could activate and after that, the Scoobies' defeat took no time at all. No one got out of the Hellmouth alive.

The final parts of the vision showed Buffy the new Slayer being called, a girl called Dana, breaking out of an asylum for the insane in Los Angeles where she had been locked up, standing alone against a growing army of thousands of Turok-Han. Then, the vision had finally ended, leaving Buffy in tears.

The Fates had only told her the rest – that one by one, Slayer after Slayer would fall, until there were no more potentials and Slayers stopped being called. Slowly, the Turok-Han would take over the Earth, with the First as its ruler. When the human government finally decided to intervene with atomic bombs, it would be too late.

The bombs would leave devastation in its wake and kill as many humans as Turok-Hans, and it still wouldn't be enough. The Turok-Han were already everywhere, and where they weren't, the land was dead because of the bombs and unfit for habitation. The human race became extinct, and with no one to feed on, slowly, the vampires and Turok-Hans too died from infighting. The Earth became as it once was, before man's arrival – overrun by demons and darkness.

"_One person _can_ make a difference,"_ they had told her. _"It may not seem like it, but every action, no matter how small, can have a reaction."_

"_The Butterfly effect,"_ Buffy had muttered.

"_Indeed,"_ the Fates had said. _"Knowing what you know now, would you still rather we had let you stay in the wizarding world?"_

Now aware of the likely devastation that would have occurred, the death of all her friends, of humanity itself, on this dimensional plane, Buffy could do little else but admit that, no, she wouldn't have. To know that she, by her mere absence, could have unwittingly caused the destruction of a whole world, was staggering, and it humbled her. It also put the prophetic dreams into new perspective: this was proof that she could change things – was _meant _to change things. But to be able to do so, she had to be sent back.

As though they read her mind, the Fates then told her that her stay in her home world had always been meant to be temporary. They had every intention of sending her back, but because her pregnancy was so far along now, they could not send her immediately without risking the life of the baby. They had assured her that she would be sent back _after _her child was born and old and strong enough to survive the trip. However, they had not said when that would be.

Looking down at her daughter once again, Buffy smiled. For once, she would be patient. Or try to, at least.

"I don't know, _auntie F,"_ Buffy said teasingly, causing Faith to wrinkle her nose, though she couldn't quite hide her pleased expression at being called 'auntie' and Buffy's smile widened. She and Faith really had truly become sisters of sorts, not only in arms. "What do you think?"

"How should I know? It's not my kid."

Buffy glanced down at her daughter, and suddenly, it struck her. She remembered a conversation, years ago, when she and Remus had been trying to help Dana and Jonathan Lupin come up with a name for his then unborn sibling... Remus had mentioned he liked the name Sarah. Buffy smiled. Her husband might not be able to be here, but by naming their daughter Sarah, she could still feel as though he was a part of this moment. "Sarah," she said out loud. "Sarah Joan Summers."

Faith stared. "You are seriously not naming your kid _Joan?"_

"What's wrong with Joan?" Buffy protested. "It's a perfectly nice name! I like it."

Faith snorted. "Whatever. It's so...blah."

Buffy gave her a glare. "It's a perfectly nice name," she repeated. "And respectable! Just think of Joan of Arc!"

"A saint from France who got burned alive," Faith said dryly. "Yeah, this bodes well for the kid's future."

"She was also a warrior!" Buffy protested. "And I'm kind of surprised you know about her," she then admitted sheepishly.

"I may not have finished High School but I'm not a total peasant," Faith snorted.

Suddenly, a rather agitated looking Angel appeared in the doorway, throwing both Slayers a thoroughly harried look, though he made sure to take the time to scrunch up his face into a funny grimace in Sarah's direction, looking put out when he got no reaction: not so surprising, perhaps, since the infant's eyes were closed. Faith and Buffy exchanged looks, and then quickly looked away, their shoulders trembling from repressed laughter.

"Sorry to interrupt," Angel said, giving up on his attempts to get the baby's attention, "but I was just wondering how long this_ invasion_ of my hotel will continue. Having dozens and dozens of Slayers gathered in the lobby and my offices makes it difficult to do any sort of business. And it makes me uncomfortable. The majority are looking at me funny, like they want to stake me."

"They probably do," Buffy said with a laugh. She was extremely glad she had managed to talk Angel out of the foolhardy idea to accept the offered position of CEO Wolfram & Hart, after he'd come to discuss it during his final visit to Sunnydale when he left her the amulet, before the town turned into a sinkhole. Angel had said he'd hoped to bring it down from the inside. Buffy had only stared at him for a second, before giving him a much needed wake-up call in the form of a single short sentence: _"You're insane."_

While Buffy didn't doubt Angel would manage to do some good, and maybe even bring it down eventually, she also knew that the cost of it would be high – higher than what Angel could afford. It was frankly, a ridiculous and thoughtless idea – to believe that the evil law firm he had been fighting against for the past five years didn't have any ulterior motives in their 'selfless' offer. Buffy had no doubt that if Angel, and the rest of his crew, had accepted, they slowly would have self-destructed.

Angel had then, in an uncharacteristic show of weakness, had a complete breakdown, a tale so horrible falling from his lips that it nearly broke Buffy's heart to hear it. Angel's pain and desperation was unmistakable, and, Buffy could see after hearing what had happened to Cordelia and his son, Connor (and hadn't that particular revelation of existence been a shock?), why Angel felt taking Wolfram & Hart's offer was the best thing to do.

Buffy had still managed to talk him out of it, asking him to wait and see – perhaps the relationship between him and Connor could still be repaired – and Angel had reluctantly agreed to give it one more try. As for Cordelia, could Angel really say he trusted Wolfram & Hart with her care, especially as, Buffy had pointed out, Cordelia would have been the last person in the world to trust them? All in all, Buffy had said, Wolfram & Hart's 'kind' offer could only be called emotional blackmail, using the people Angel loved against him to make him accept.

In the end, only Charles Gunn, one of Angel's crew, had agreed to sell himself to the devil, but when it became apparent that he was the only one, the offer had immediately been retracted, proving, once and for all, that Wolfram & Hart had only been after Angel and definitely up to no good.

Things between Angel and his son were still tense, and Buffy's first impression of Connor was that he was an even more intense brooder than his father (and a bit more dramatic – surely the fault of Darla's genes), but the sudden large influx of Slayers following the battle of Sunnydale and the activation of all Potentials had managed to thoroughly distract him from his depression. Angel had admitted to Buffy that she had been right and that he felt Connor would be okay – he just needed some time. And overly stimulated hormones certainly seemed to help.

Angel grimaced. "Great."

"Don't worry," Faith said. "We'll be out of your hair soon enough. I talked to Giles and Wesley, and they said they've almost got the new Headquarters ready. It's a castle - in Scotland. We're thinking of naming it Hogwarts." Her eyes twinkled as she looked at Buffy, who rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, B, it fits!" Faith laughed.

"I suppose," Buffy sighed, while inwardly wondering if the castle Giles had found was indeed this world's equivalent to the magic school, building wise. It would be extremely ironic if that was the case, and, like Faith said, strangely fitting.

"Will you go with us, or will you stay here?" Faith wondered, suddenly serious. "I know you're just biding your time until you're sent back, but we could use you." In the doorway, Angel noticeably flinched, clearly not at all looking forward to that day, no matter how much it meant to Buffy. Buffy inwardly sighed. In the months since she returned, Angel had been around a lot – once he'd learnt she was back, he had immediately driven down from LA, though he had not been able to stay permanently – for one, he'd been dealing with his own trouble in LA at the time, and everyone had feared the influence the First may have on him.

Despite the danger, Angel had still visited as often as he could, keeping a respectful distance, not initiating any intimate advances towards Buffy. But Buffy still knew what he wanted – how could she not? It was in every look he sent her. She knew Angel was still in love with her. Buffy also knew she had been slightly unfair to the vampire during these past few months, often taking advantage of that fact by using his shoulder to cry on and talking to him about her fears and the agony she felt from missing Remus so much. She knew it must pain Angel, to have to listen to her speak of someone else with such love, but he never protested Buffy's treatment of him.

"_I_ could use you," Faith continued, breaking Buffy out of her thoughts. "I thought training Potentials was rough – training a Slayer army is going to be Hell."

Buffy grinned. "I don't envy you. I think I'll come with you, to check the place out and help everyone get settled and get the New Council off the ground. With hundreds of Slayers out there, a lot of reorganisation and thinking out of the box will be required. But after that, I think I'll head back here. Raising a child in the middle of the chaos that Slayer central is certainly going to be doesn't sound like something I want. And even if LA's nightlife can be dangerous, I'm sure it will still be calmer. At least I can count Angel's crew on one hand. Well, almost. That is if Angel let's me stay." She glanced at her former boyfriend, who nodded.

"No problem. It's always nice to have you around and we could use a Slayer around here. One who _doesn't_ give me the evil eye and twirls a stake threateningly whenever she sees me."

Faith snorted. "You've got issues."

"I'm not the one with issues!" Angel protested. "The _Baby Slayers_ are. Why can't they take a hint and realise I'm not going to lose my soul and attack them?"

"They do realise that Angel," Buffy chuckled. "Don't you get that they're just messing with you? You jump whenever one of them comes a little too close – they find it hilarious. I've heard them admit it."

Angel's left eye twitched in annoyance. "Young people these days," he muttered angrily. "No respect for their elders, I tell you. None!"

Faith and Buffy looked at each other and then burst out laughing. In her arms, little Sarah let out a sleepy yawn, and her nose, its shape slightly reminiscent of Buffy's own, scrunched up before relaxing.

* * *

**September, 1982**

In an office high up on the seventh floor in a castle located in Scotland, two men were having a meeting. The older man had a long beard and half-moon spectacles, while the younger was pacing irately back and forth across the floor.

"...None of us can understand it!" the younger man exclaimed. "It's been nearly a year and yet no new Slayer has been called! We have checked all our Potentials, and none of them show any signs of being the next Slayer! Our mystics are...well, _mystified, _and the spells cast by the coven of witches the Council regularly employs have also failed in finding any traces of a new Slayer!" He spun around. "Is it because of Miss Summers? Is this dimensions Slayer 'quota' somehow filled already with her presence here? Or is there something you're not telling me, Dumbledore?"

The older man, Dumbledore, sighed. "Sit down, Phillip," he said, for once not offering his visitor a lemon drop, like he usually would. He had a feeling the Watcher would not appreciate it. "Buffy's presence is not at fault. And even if it had been, it still should not have affected a new Slayer being called, seeing as she has gone back to her original universe."

Phillip spluttered. "What? When? And did you not think the Council should have been informed of this? She might not be our Slayer or in any way under our jurisdiction, but we should still have been notified! Will she come back?"

"Forgive me, but I honestly forgot to let you know," Dumbledore said regretfully. "It happened in late December, and I had a lot of things on my mind around that time. As to whether or not she will come back, I certainly hope so, but I do not know. As to why a new Slayer has not been called..." He sighed. "I have my suspicions - I have had them for awhile now, but as I hoped I was wrong, I wanted to wait before I told you..."

Phillip's eyes narrowed. "I do not appreciate subterfuge, Dumbledore, nor does the rest of the Council. If you know the reason the Slayer essence is still floating around the ether somehow, rather than settling into a new Chosen One - "

" - Voldemort is not dead."

Phillip gawked at him, and then, his face whitened._ "What?"_ he hissed. "You told your Order - you told _me_ that he was!"

"Correction, I said that he, for all _intents and purposes, _was dead."

"Then, please, enlighten me. What did you mean by that?"

Dumbledore sighed again. "Somehow, his spirit lingers. He has somehow managed to anchor himself to life, enough of him so that he was not killed on Halloween - just temporarily vanquished."

"Does that mean he will be back?"

"It does, yes."

"And," Phillip swallowed, "I assume the reason a new Slayer has not yet been called is because the Slayer essence is still somehow trapped inside whatever's left of that monster? That Joshua's legacy can _still _not be passed on to someone worthy?"

"I fear it is so, yes," Dumbledore said gravely. "I don't believe a new Slayer can be called until Voldemort meets his final demise, when nothing of his presence can hang on to the earthly plane. And that will not happen for years." Phillip clenched and unclenched his fists. "The Council's support when Voldemort does rise again will be most appreciated - "

Phillip looked up. "The Council's support?" he repeated, his voice trembling, either with suppressed tears or rage, or maybe even both. "There will be no support coming from the Council, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore frowned. "But surely you must want Voldemort gone as much as we do - "

"Of course we do!" Phillip hissed. "I will cheer when _Voldemort," _he spat out the name, "is finally - and _permanently_ - dead. But in case you've forgotten, it is because of _you_ our Slayer was dragged into your conflict with that bastard in the first place! I was willing to let it go the first time around - the Council was willing to _support_ you the first time around - but to hear you've deliberately withheld this information for_ nearly an entire year _even though you knew he was not gone while my people ran around in circles looking for a reason a new Slayer was nowhere to be found is unforgivable. Fuck you," he added, venom in his voice, "fuck your Order and fuck your society. From now on, the Council and the wizarding world will have nothing to do with each other - as it should have been from the start. If only we'd been clever enough to see it, maybe Joshua would still be alive and even if he hadn't been, this world would at least still have a rightful Slayer in his place." And with that, the Watcher swept out of the office.

* * *

**May, 1983**

In a New York apartment, a dark haired woman sat in front of a vanity table, staring at her face reflected into the mirror, a turquoise necklace around her neck. With long, even strokes, she slowly brushed her hair, her movements automatic, her eyes staring straight ahead.

"Mandy!" A woman's voice could be hard calling from outside the room. "Are you ready soon? We have to go or we'll be late for the movie! You're the one who insisted on seeing it, though for the life of me, I can't understand why a movie about people in space swinging laser swords about appeal to you."

Not answering, the woman – Mandy – put down her brush but made no attempt to stand up. Instead, she reached up and clutched the necklace in her fist. Her life was filled with confusion and pretence as she tried to keep up a facade that she was happy and missing nothing, despite the gaps in her memory. But the necklace was something that always made her feel better. The turquoise stone pendant exuded warmth and whenever she wore it, the world seemed less scary and she felt...loved. She even slept with it – the one time she hadn't, she'd woken up screaming from a dark nightmare filled with red eyes and a high, cackling laugh... "Didn't you hear me?" Mandy quickly let her hand drop and she forced up a smile on her face as her sister entered the room, a frown on her face.

"Of course I don't want to miss the movie, Kelly," she said, standing. "And I'm sorry for not answering: I was just lost in thought." What she wasn't telling her sister was that the reason she wanted to see the film was because she had woken up this morning with memories of seeing the first part of the film trilogy. It had made her feel loved and warm inside, just like the pendant did, even if she couldn't recall the faces or the names of the people who were watching it with her...

Kelly chuckled. "That's my sister," she said wrapping an arm around Mandy's shoulder. "The thinker."

Mandy smiled weakly, shaking her head to rid her mind of the image of a talking hat on top of the head of a much younger her, as it yelled out _"RAVENCLAW!"_ for a huge room filled with students to hear... "It's lightsabers, by the way," she said out loud.

Kelly blinked in confusion. "What?"

"The laser swords in the movie – they're lightsabers."

"Is there a difference?" Kelly sounded genuinely bewildered.

Mandy sighed. "I suppose it doesn't matter..." But it did, at least to her._ He_ would have known the difference, she thought. If only she knew who _he_ was... An image of fathomless grey eyes materialised in her mind for a second, disappearing even quicker. Unconsciously, her hand rose to her pendant again, grasping it even tighter, the comforting warmth creating a strange flutter in her belly, bringing with it the impression of a bark-like laugh...

'_Who are you?'_

* * *

**December, 1984**

In a room at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, a four-year-old boy and his much older grandmother visited a couple that lay on their beds in the ward for permanent spell damage. Both of them had thinning faces and a scatter of white hair, even though both of them only seemed to be in their late twenties.

They were almost completely unaware of all that was going on around them and unable to communicate. They didn't know they had been like this for three years, or that the grandmother and her grandson came without fail every Christmas – time had no meaning for them. They were unaware of the Christmas decorations in every room of the hospital. They didn't know that the old woman was the mother of one of them, or that the boy was their son.

But when the two visitors turned to leave, the woman gave the boy an empty Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper, and though the grandmother sighed, the boy forced up a smile. "Thanks, Mum."

The woman offered him an empty smile in return, humming slightly on an unidentifiable tune, and the boy turned away, tears in his eyes, as he clutched the wrapper tightly in his hand.

* * *

**October, 1985**

In a large manor on Jersey Island, a man lay still as death in his bed. Two Healers stood over him, frowning, as they checked the man's vitals with a spell cast by one of the Healers. In the doorway, two house-elves hovered anxiously.

"Do you think he will ever wake up?" One of the Healers wondered out loud.

Her partner sighed. "Well...it has been four years with no change, so no, it isn't very likely. It was always a long shot."

"It's such a shame..." She glanced at the man in his bed, adjusting the covers slightly. "Perhaps it would have been better if he really had died that Halloween..."

"Don't you go saying something like that!" One of the house-elves exclaimed angrily, walking forwards. "Master James _will _wake up! Toby is sure of it!"

The other house-elf nodded empathically. "Saffy agrees with Toby!" She said firmly and climbed up on James' bed, glancing tenderly at his unmoving shape. "Master James will get well again!"

The first Healer sighed. "I want to believe you, I do. But my experience tells me – "

" – Master James is good at beating the odds," Toby said, tugging at his ears, his small build practically trembling. "And Potters are resilient. Everyone says so."

The Healers sighed. "I sincerely hope you're right."

* * *

**November, 1985**

In a wizarding prison located on a tiny, Unplottable island somewhere in the North Sea, a man lay shivering in his cell, trying to escape the bad memories brought up to the surface by the presence of the dementors. He had long since given up hope that he would ever get a trial. But the thought of revenge still kept him from giving up, and the knowledge that he was innocent, and that he was an animagus, made it possible for him to hang on to his sanity. Being a dog made the presence of the foul creatures easier to bear, and if he had a choice, he would have preferred to remain a dog all the time. But while the dementors were blind, the human guards were not, which made that solution impossible, and as they were currently on their rounds, he couldn't risk transforming at the moment.

"How're you doing in there, Black?" A guard that passed by asked with a slight smirk. "Having a happy birthday?"

The man – Black – stared at him blankly. "It's my birthday?" He asked, and the guard's smirk faltered, not having expected a response. "How old does that make me now? Never mind – I suppose it doesn't matter anymore."

A few cells down, his cousin – Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange – let out a mad cackle, and the guard jumped. It was Black's turn to smirk. "New on the job, are you?"

"Y-yes," the guard stammered, all his cockiness gone. "H-how did you know?"

"Didn't recognise you," Black said. "And I haven't seen the last guard in awhile - no one ever lasts long here. The guards can't stand the dementors' presence any better than the prisoners, see."

"And yet you seem remarkably sane," the guard spoke. "Why is that? What's your secret?"

Black tapped his temple. "It's all up here. Will power."

"Well, I suppose we'll see which one of us lasts longer," the guard said, some of his confidence returning, intrigued about Black, despite himself.

"That's an easy bet," Black said, stretching out his legs. "I've got nothing to lose. You, on the other hand, I bet has a girl at home. Maybe a loving mother. You'll want to keep those memories. The longer you're here, you'll begin to doubt your ability to do so. You'll ask for a transfer, because your little lady-love doesn't like your nightmares, and your mother doesn't like the look on your face when you get home from a shift. So you see, I'll win, because all I have is my sanity, but no one who cares if I lose it."

The guard frowned. "Well, let's say the bet is already won by you then. What do you want?" Black looked surprised. "Since it's your birthday, I'm feeling generous."

"A blanket would be nice. And a newspaper and pen – I like doing the crossword," Black said after some thought, a memory of a girl with brown eyes and a bright smile who liked puzzles – crosswords included - flashing past his mind's eye – quickly stolen by the effect from the dementors.

"I'll see what I can do," the guard asked after a slight pause. A request for a blanket, he'd expected – but the newspaper was a surprise. The guard had thought a pillow or better food would have been Black's second request, in an effort to get somewhat more comfortable. Black was an enigma, all around, and the guard thought he might just last longer here than Black expected he would – at least long enough to figure out the mystery about him. "By the way, the Goblins from Gringotts sent a letter," he said uncomfortably.

When he first came by, he had looked forward to breaking bad news to the man, but now it felt slightly shameful, after seeing the remarkably sane mood Black was in. "I am afraid it held some...eh...bad news. Your mother has passed, and her will...well, it was very outdated. She apparently left half of her fortune to your brother, with the other half split between you and your father. As you are the only beneficiary still alive,_ all_ the fortune has passed down to you. Your cousin, Narcissa Malfoy, née Black, tried to dispute the will, wanting at least the shares of your brother and father split evenly among other surviving blood-relatives, but custom is apparently very clear - " The guard stopped talking as he realised Black had begun to laugh.

The laugh had begun as a small chuckle, which was why the guard hadn't immediately noticed, but now it had grown into loud snorts. It then turned into a booming laugh, and the guard began to wonder if perhaps Black was insane after all. "Oh, I don't care about the gold," Black chortled when he saw the guard's look. "Not like I've got any use for it, where I am. And I'm not exactly happy my dear mother kicked the bucket, but I can honestly say I'm not going to mourn her either."

"Then why are you laughing?" The guard asked cautiously. He noticed Bellatrix, on the other hand, had stopped.

"I just find it ironic," Black sniggered. "She disowned me, you see, but I suppose she never really went and got it made official. Or bothered to write me out of her will." He began to laugh loudly again, just as Bellatrix got restarted, this time screaming obscenities at Black, her loud shrieks of anger echoing down the corridor. It seemed she had been listening, and wasn't at all happy about what she'd heard.

The guard shook his head in bewilderment as Black began to mock Bellatrix from his cell, causing the woman to get angrier and angrier and shake the bars. The guard walked away to continue his rounds, Black's laugher and Bellatrix' furious screams still ringing in his ears. _'Yes,'_ he thought to himself, utterly bemused. _'Absolutely bonkers, those Blacks...'_

* * *

**Outside time**

In a misty landscape in a place that transcended explanation, somewhere beyond human reach, seven ethereal beings stood in a circle around an eighth, smaller being, its wispy, glowing form trembling in anticipation.

"It is finally time, then?" the being asked, for once not intimidated by the presence of its much older and wiser superiors – the seven ancients, though they also had other names on the human realm: the one used most often was Fate, Destiny, or other variations thereof. Together, they made up a large part of The Powers That Be. The Powers were the keepers of the universe and upholders of balance, and consisted of other groups such as such as Guardians, Gatekeepers, Spiritual guides, Time, Life and Death and various conduits on the many Earths and habitual worlds that existed in the multi-verse.

As once, the seven ancients lowered their heads in a nod. "Yes. The Slayer has been informed. You know what to do," one of them said, the voice barely more than what the human ear would call a whisper. To the other Fates, however, it was loud and clear. "For once, you have our permission." The Fate sounded amused as the first being's form flickering with embarrassment at the teasing reminder of a particular blunder which had changed the destiny of the woman they were currently focused on.

The small Fate, its form still flickering, walked over to a large stone well that seemed to shimmer with power. The water inside was smooth, the surface completely blank. Waiting until the view was focused on a particular Slayer and her child, the young Fate then dipped a misty finger into the well, disturbing the surface and opening a portal between two particular dimensions.

It was finally time for Buffy Summers to return to her rightful place...to be reunited with her soulmate...and for a father to meet his daughter.

* * *

**January, 1986**

In a cottage that was beginning to look rather shabby, with peeling paint and windows with rusting hinges, a man with dark reddish blonde hair that was beginning to turn grey in places, sat in the kitchen, a cup of rapidly cooling tea in his hand. No one looking at him would ever believe he carried any sort of dark secret, but the fact of that matter was that he did: he was a werewolf.

This was not exactly something to be proud of, and then man had never been able to see his lycanthropy as anything other than a curse, just as the majority of the wizarding world was unable to see that werewolves were also human, and not simply dangerous, mindless beasts. This prejudice had only been enforced by the most recent war, during which some feral werewolves had fought on the side of the Dark Lord. Because of this, stricter laws on those afflicted with the condition had been passed in the years since, as a 'preventative measure to future wars.'

The man – named Remus Lupin – sighed, as he glanced at the notice he had gotten from the Ministry, which concerned the most recent addendum to the British Statute of Secrecy: magical creatures were no longer allowed to work in the muggle world. The explanation following the addendum said it was to limit the amount of exposure, but Remus knew it was really to make things harder for 'dark creatures' like him. While the law specifically said 'magical creatures,' he knew it was likely only werewolves who would be affected.

This was only one of many notices he had gotten since the war ended, and Remus wondered what the next one would say. Already, he was no longer allowed to own any property within highly populated villages, whether that be wizarding or muggle. Luckily, the Lupin cottage was fairly secluded, so that particular law did not affect him much. The one that forced werewolves under a set maximum wage did, though. It had been humiliating to have to tell his boss he was being given _too high_ a salary, and could they please pay him _less?_

But Remus knew he was lucky he had the work at the library, though he wondered how long it would last. His werewolf status was on the Ministry registry and he knew Lena Page, his boss, had come under fire from Ministry personnel for hiring him lately, even though it wasn't illegal. He wondered how far the debt she felt she owed him for saving her life would stretch, before self-preservation kicked in.

Remus highly doubted Lena would let herself get fired, or demoted, for his sake. And if she did, well, Remus didn't think he was worth it: the end result – him losing his job – would be the same, and he'd rather not see Lena be dragged down with him. All in all, Remus was considering resigning, just to spare them both the trouble and humiliation. The only question was where he would get a job afterwards.

It wasn't that he was in great need of money – as he was married to Buffy, he had his own Gringotts key with access to her vault which still held the majority of the reward given to her for slaying the Basilisk at Hogwarts. But he did not want to touch that without her here: it was _her _money and he felt uncomfortable to use it without her, even though he knew Buffy would not mind.

Buffy... Remus sighed. He missed his wife terribly, even more since the connection between his griffin and her wolf figurine had finally snapped about a year ago, giving him no clue to her feelings. He wondered about their child – whether it was a boy or girl, and how she or he was doing. Had Buffy told their child about him? Were they happy and safe?

He still didn't know where the portal had led to – the likeliest option was Sunnydale, of course, but he couldn't be sure. If so, had Buffy gone back to Angel? He wouldn't blame her if she had – four years were a long time, and if she didn't get any sort of guarantee she could come back... He clenched his fists, glancing down at his wedding band. She would come back, Remus told himself. And he would be here waiting when she did. He would wait forever, if he had to.

Forever had never seemed like such a long time... For the first few months after Buffy had been forcible dragged away from him with that portal, all the improvement he had made with his transformations had stopped, the wolf just as enraged as him and for a long while, Remus thought the balance he'd fought so hard far was gone forever. But then, it was as if something had clicked within him, and with the wolf: the anguish they both felt over Buffy's - and their child's, their cub's - disappearance was something they agreed on...and it was finally that which made it possible for him to finally connect with his inner wolf, and it with him. At last, they understood one another.

Finally, Remus had the balance he had strived so hard for, but without Buffy, the transformations, though he no longer fought them, were still mostly painful. And while he and the wolf were one, under the light of the full moon, their mind was full of apathy: they'd lost their playfulness years ago. After all, there was no one to play with...

Suddenly, the cottage began to tremble and Remus jumped to his feet, his eyes wide as he ran into the living room. His heart was beating hard as he watched, for the fifth time in his life, a portal being formed in front of his very eyes. Inwardly, he prayed that the miracle he'd been hoping for was finally here, that this wasn't yet another cruel joke by the Fates - it wasn't.

The portal let out a flash, and then, with a blast of air, a woman stepped out. A smaller girl with light brown hair who looked to be around three-and-half-years old,held on to her hand tightly. Behind them, the portal vanished into nothingness, leaving a demolished living room in its wake.

Remus didn't care. He only had eyes for the blonde standing before him, a wide smile on her face. Remus drank Buffy in like a starving man, even as he felt their bond snap back into place in the back of his mind. He nearly sank to his knees from the overwhelming set of emotion that came with it.

Slowly, Remus stretched out a trembling hand until his fingers reached her chin. With tears in her eyes, Buffy grabbed it like a lifeline, pressing it against her cheek. She looked slightly older, more mature, perhaps, but every bit as beautiful as when he had last seen her, if not more so.

"Hi," Remus said hoarsely, and immediately wanted to curse himself. For over four years, he had been without her, dimensions keeping them apart, and all he could manage was an insipid 'hi?'

But Buffy only laughed, the sound working as a healing balm on Remus' soul – only Buffy had ever managed to make him feel so complete.

"Hi," she said back, nearly hiccupping with joy.

Remus then glanced towards her companion, who, at his look, took a shy step back. "Hi to you too," he said, slowly kneeling down, as Buffy did the same. Inside him, Moony was howling with elation at the realisation that his pack – his _family _– was complete at last. There was only one person this could be.

"Remus," she said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder and pushing her forward a bit, "this is Sarah. Your daughter. Sarah - say hi to your dad."

Sarah said nothing, and only looked at Remus' right hand as he held it out. Then, she finally spoke, taking the hand and shaking it almost solemnly. "Hi."

To Remus, it was the sweetest sound in the world.

* * *

**August, 1986**

In a beautiful mansion in Marseille, a nine year old girl sat pouting in her room, while looking at a family photo, with herself in the middle and her parents on either side. Outside the room, her governess knocked carefully on her door.

"Fleur, ma petite, won't you let me in?"

There was a short pause. "Are you going to be angry at me for throwing a tantrum like maman?" The girl then asked.

"No, sweetheart, not at all."

"Then fine," Fleur sighed theatrically, and put the photo aside, before she threw herself backwards onto her bed theatrically.

The dark-haired governess opened the door and stepped inside, sitting down next to Fleur, waiting patiently for her to speak what was on her mind, while dragging her fingers through her silvery-blonde tresses.

"They'll forget me," the girl finally whispered. "When the new baby comes."

"Of course they won't forget you," her governess comforted. "And having a sister can be wonderful."

But Fleur only shook her head. "They'll love her more than me." Her pink lips trembled. "Or they won't love me at all anymore! Oh, Eliza, what shall I do?"

Eliza couldn't quite stop her lips from twitching. Fleur could be so over-dramatic sometimes, but that was half her charm. "Your parents will never stop loving you, Fleur," she said. "It may seem like it, at first," she then admitted, "for babies take up a lot of time. They're loud and smelly and very needy." She tickled Fleur's stomach, making the French girl giggle. "But once your new sister gets older, that will change, and _you_ will have someone to play with – someone who can keep up with you. Goodness knows that's not me anymore," she added to herself under her breath. Fleur could be very demanding when she put her mind to it, not to mention stubborn.

Fleur notably lit up. "Oh, I did not think of that!"

"_And_ you get to teach her everything you know." Eliza added, poking Fleur's nose, determined to get her see all the positive things about having a sibling. "You will be her heroine, someone she can look up to."

Fleur's eyes glinted and it was clear the nine-year-old quite liked this idea. "I will be the best sister _ever!"_ she said out loud, sitting back up. "Do you have a sister, Eliza?"

"No, I'm an only child. I do wish I had one, though. I was quite lonely growing up."

Fleur nodded knowingly. "I was lonely too, before you came. My parents have so little time for me." She pouted a bit. "Maybe they will have more time when the baby comes. Are you close to your parents?"

Eliza cocked her head, wondering how to answer that question. It had taken years, but she and her dad were finally on good terms again. Not great, and things would always be awkward, but at least they could spend time together: they even tried to have dinner at least once a week. "My mother is dead, I'm afraid. And things haven't always been easy between my father and I, but yes, I suppose we are fairly close."

"Good," Fleur said firmly. "Because being alone isn't fun. When I grow up, I want a family who always has time for me. I want a husband who is at home a lot." Eliza smiled at Fleur's serious expression. The girl was only nine but she knew what she wanted and was a lot more mature than many of her peers – most girls at her age were still in the 'boys have cooties' phase. Perhaps the difference came from being half Veela, or perhaps it simply came from the simple fear of loneliness. Fleur spoke frankly about her parents' lack of time for her, but Eliza knew it hurt her when they put business before her. "Do you want a family, Eliza?"

Eliza froze, her smile slipping of her face. Once, she had entertained the notion that maybe she and Caradoc could have had something. But their friendship had never gotten the time it needed to evolve into something else, and they had never discussed it. And now, he was gone, and so was the possibility of a future with him. She forced up a smile. "Why would I? I've got you, don't I?"

Fleur beamed at her.

* * *

**April, 1987**

In the living room of a small, modest country house, a tall, long-haired man let a heavy box drop to the floor with a sigh. "That was the last of it, Belinda. Finally."

Belinda looked up from the box of books she was unpacking and gave her husband a smile. "Good. What's in those?"

"Uhh..." The man quickly checked the writing on the side of the box. "_Fragile stuff,_" he read out loud.

"How eloquently put," Belinda said dryly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You couldn't have been a little more specific when you marked the boxes? Is Tracey outside?"

"Yup." He opened the box to check the contents. "She's exploring the garden, but I'm sure she'll be in soon – it's just grass and bushes and trees – not very exciting. It's porcelain in this one."

"Put it in the kitchen, then."

"Can't it wait?" Her husband said, walking over and embracing his wife from behind. "Can't we just..._celebrate_..." he paused to put a soft kiss against the side of her throat, "that we're back in Britain?"

Belinda let out a groan in protest that sounded weak even to her own ears. "Lucan..."

Just then, there was a tug on the back of Lucan's jacket and he turned, coming face to face with his daughter, her hands on her hips and her face scrunched up in a disgruntled expression. "You and mum are being yucky again," she declared.

Lucan laughed. "So we are!" He exclaimed, grabbing her by the waist and tickling her.

The seven-year-old screeched with laughter. "Daddy!"

"You've got twigs in your hair, Tracey," Belinda said, carefully plucking them out once. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, there's a great tree for climbing!" Tracey said excitedly. "I can't wait to show it to Daphne! When is she coming over? I've never had a cousin before and I really want to meet her! Is it true she has a little sister? I want a sister too – "

"Hold your horses, little lady," Lucan laughed. "You get into plenty of trouble without a sister to add to it," he said. "I already dread to think of the trouble you'll get up to once you drag your cousins into your little adventures."

"You can't be too forward with them, Tracey," Belinda said with a slight frown. "My brother is...well, he's nothing like your dad, and his wife is very...proper," she finally said, in lack of a better description to use on his brother and her wife. Both of them were so..._pureblood._ If there was one thing about their move back to Britain she was not looking forward to, it was the pureblood politics and intrigue that came with it. Perhaps all the years she'd been married to a muggleborn and living abroad had softened her.

Tracey frowned. "So?"

"So Daphne and Astoria may not be as...playful as you are," Belinda finished gently. "Try to get to know them a bit first before you overwhelm them with games." Before Tracey could answer, there was suddenly a knock on the door and Belinda's eyes widened.

"I'll get it!" Tracey shouted and before Lucan or Belinda could stop her, she'd run towards the hall.

"They can't be here already!" Belinda fretted as she listened to her daughter's exuberant greeting. "I thought I would have a few more hours to clean up."

"Don't worry about it," Lucan said. "They know we just got back. And if the mess bothers them, they can get their pureblood hands dirty and help us unpack."

Belinda threw him a dirty look. "Be nice, Lucan. I don't need to hear any of your thinly-veiled insults – my brother always sees right through them and he already dislikes you."

Lucan held is hands up in surrender. "I'll be a perfect gentleman."

Just then, Tracey returned to the room, followed by a blonde girl in the same age and a shorter, younger girl with hair in the same shade, both of them immaculately dressed in fine wizarding robes with the Greengrass crest. In stark contrast, Tracey's own clothes - muggle jeans and a t-shirt - were dirtied down with grass and mud from running and climbing, and a couple of twigs and leaves still visible in her dark hair. Behind the girls followed Belinda's brother and his wife, both of them looking bemused and slightly annoyed. "...It's a _great_ tree for climbing," Tracey gushed, clearly having been talking since the moment she opened the door. "I think it's perfect for a tree-house too... Have you ever built a tree-house...?" And on she went.

"Belinda," her brother said, kissing her hand in greeting, and then nodded at Lucan. "Lucan."

Lucan nodded back. "Stephan. And Lydia, lovely as ever."

Lydia Greengrass sniffed, not returning the greeting. "Nice house, Belinda," she said in a sugar-sweet voice as she looked around. "It's very..._quaint."_

"Well, we can't all live in mansions," Belinda said, just as sweetly. "This is perfect for us."

Suddenly, Tracey was there, tugging at her skirt. "Mum!" She sounded horrified. "Daphne and Astoria says they've never been tree-climbing before! Frankly, I am astonished at this blatant lack of sense! I know their parents are old, but that only makes it worse – they've had plenty of time to learn how to teach a child to climb trees!"

Lucan coughed to hide his laughter while Tracey continued on: "Daphne says they usually play house. Play _house! _With_ dolls _and_ tea-parties!" _Tracey sounded genuinely aghast. "Clearly, I have my work cut out for me."

Belinda threw her brother – he and Lydia both looked like they'd swallowed a lemon - a weak smile. "Excuse my daughter, please. Tracey, darling, I don't think Daphne or Astoria are dressed for tree-climbing today. Perhaps you could play something inside."

Tracey frowned. "Weeeell," she began slowly, "I suppose we should start with something calmer than tree-climbing." She suddenly lit up and turned to her father. "Can me and Daphne and Astoria build houses of the boxes, daddy?" Tracey asked, peering up at her father with a pout. "Pleeeease!"

Stephan and Lydia both looked like they were going to protest, but before they could, and before Belinda could suggest something else, Lucan clutched his chest theatrically.

"Oh, not the pout!" He exclaimed. "You know I can't say no to that!"

Tracey giggled. "Is that a yes?"

"It's a yes. Now, shoo."

Tracey beamed, quickly grabbing two of the large empty boxes on the living room floor, and gesturing for a bewildered but excited Daphne and a slightly more hesitant Astoria, to follow her. "Let's go! Daddy said yes and what daddy says goes!"

"You've raised a hellion, sister," Stephan said, unimpressed.

Belinda threw him a challenging look. "And I'm proud of it," she deadpanned as shrieks of laughter – from _three_ children, not just one – reached their ears from Tracey's room.

* * *

**March, 1988**

In an apartment in Charter Towers, Queensland, Australia, a twenty-year-old man with curly dark hair threw a bucket of cold water over the head of his roommate and adoptive brother as he lay sleeping, waking him up.

His brother sat up with an angry screech: "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU, JASPER!"

"You don't want to be late for work, do you?" Jasper said mockingly. "Your boss already dislikes you, Will."

Will, dripping with water, glared at him. "I set my alarm-clock." A second later, it began to ring, and Will turned it off with a flick of his wand.

A sheepish expression appeared on Jasper's face. "Oh. Sorry. But I still think my way to wake you up was a lot funnier."

"For _you,"_ Will grumbled, drying himself with another flick of his wand. "What are you going to do while I'm at work?"

"I don't know," Jasper shrugged. "Look through the muggle ads for a job, I guess."

"I still can't believe you managed to get yourself fired from the _one _wizarding job that would take you," Will mumbled. "Do you have any idea how long it took dad to convince the guy to give you a chance?"

Jasper rolled his eyes. "Yes, because neither you nor dad ever seize to remind me. But it's not like standing around in a stupid shrimp-costume, shouting out for everyone to hear about the wonders of _'Mason's Magical Sea-food! (It Moves!)'_ is my idea of a dream-job! And besides, I get enough of being an animal one day out of every month – I really don't need to pretend I am one every other day as well. Especially not a crustacean - I don't even _like_ crustaceans."

Will threw him a sympathetic look. "I know being a werewolf is hard on you, Jas. But from the letters you get from Remus, it's apparent it's even worse in places like Britain."

Jasper sighed. "I know."

Suddenly, Will snorted and Jasper threw him a glare. "I'm sorry," Will gasped. "But I just remembered the look on your face when that one kid pulled at your tail-flippers!"

"They're called _uropods,"_ Jasper said through gritted teeth, and Will laughed even harder.

"Your consequent temper-tantrum about what that kid did might have lost you the job, but at the time, it was hilarious!"

"For _you,"_ Jasper said icily.

* * *

**September, 1989**

In a large castle, somewhere in Scotland, a red-haired girl nervously watched as a woman called professor McGonagall stepped forward with a long scroll of parchment, holding the names of the students that were about to be sorted.

Her heart thumping wildly, the girl wondered when it would be her turn: her last name began with a 'B' – what if there was no one with a last name on 'A'? That would make her first in line... "Baddock, Elizabeth," a woman named professor McGonagall read out, and the girl – Elizabeth - gasped as her fear of being first was realised, and on trembling legs she made her way to the hat.

Her parents wanted her to be in Slytherin, of course, but Elizabeth inwardly knew that house was completely wrong for her – but she was scared to end up anywhere else. She didn't even want to think about her parents' and younger brother's reaction if she became a Hufflepuff, or worse, Gryffindor. Because of this, Elizabeth silently prayed the hat would sort her into Ravenclaw – while it wasn't Slytherin, it was at least an acceptable alternative in her family's eyes. The hat fell over her head, and Elizabeth closed her eyes.

'_You wish for Ravenclaw?' _The hat chuckled in her ear. _'Well, let's see what we find hidden in your mind first... Hmm... Well, Slytherin is _certainly_ not the house for you. You've been at the end of far too many lies and half-truths already: Slytherin would only create more obstacles. Gryffindor is not the right place for you either – you have a little too much self-preservation for it to be a perfect fit, not to mention a bit too much fear of others opinions, particularly the opinions of those you call parents...' _Not sure if she should be offended or relieved by the hat's statement, Elizabeth patiently sat waiting as the hat continued to whisper in her ear: '_Both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw would lead you down a path to the truth you have been withheld from all your life, and you would do well in either house...But taking your wish into account, I think it better be _RAVENCLAW.'

The name of her new house was shouted out by the hat for all to hear, and relieved, Elizabeth went over to the table whose students were cheering. The second student to be sorted also ended up a Ravenclaw and she smiled widely at Elizabeth as she sat down. "Emily Bennett," she introduced herself, holding out a hand. "I'm really excited to be here. What about you?"

"Well, I'm Elizabeth Baddock, and I'm excited too," Elizabeth said, shyly. "But I'm also really nervous." In the background, someone called Chloe Crane was sorted into Slytherin.

Emily nodded in agreement. "Yes! Me too. Let's make a pact to stick together, okay? Not just because we're first years in the same house, but also because we share the same initials, and general awesomeness."

Elizabeth laughed, feeling her nervousness disappear, just as a Cedric Diggory, whom she had said hi to once or twice during various Ministry events they were both forced to attend with their respective parents, was sorted into Hufflepuff.

* * *

**February, 1990**

On top of a hill, in a strange looking cylindrical black house shaped like a giant chess rook, a blonde woman stood bent over a bubbling cauldron inside her workshop. Beside her stood her eight – almost nine - year-old daughter on her tiptoes, her protuberant eyes peeking up curiously over the top of the workbench.

"What is that going to be, mum?"

"Hopefully, it's the beginning of a potential cure to the effects of the Cruciatus curse, darling," the blonde woman said, stroking the top of her daughter's head absently, while adding a small amount of cut ginger roots to the cauldron. The liquid began to fizzle and turned an angry orange.

"I don't know what the Cussiatus curse do," Luna pouted.

"And be glad you don't," the woman said, smiling at her daughter's mispronunciation and playfully tugging at a strand of her dirty-blonde hair. "Now, the next step is to add a spell to the potion, which means things might get a unstable in here, Luna darling, so you should head off and play with your dad."

"Is it your own spell?" Luna asked excitedly. "The one you finished last week?"

Luna's mother laughed. "Yes, it is."

"Oh, please, let me stay and watch! Please!" Luna begged.

Her mother sighed. "This is an experiment darling, and sometimes, they go wrong. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you. I've been working on this for a very long time, and if I've done all the equations correctly, it should be safe, but I'd rather not risk it."

"Well, can't I stand in the doorway?" Luna suggested.

"Luna, it's really not going to be exciting at all," her mother said. "If I'm right, the potion will turn a milky white and then settle – there will be no exciting fireworks of any kind."

"I promise I'll be really quiet," Luna said, pretending to zip her lips shut.

Her mother laughed. "Alright. I can see there's no convincing you otherwise – you're too curious for your own good."

"I get that from you," Luna said, happily skipping over to the doorway.

"I want you outside the room," her mother told her, and, grumbling slightly, Luna backed out of the room until the stood exactly one half-inch beyond the threshold.

"Alright, I'm ready!"

Chuckling at her daughter's cheeky antics, the blonde woman grabbed her wand from behind her ear where she'd put it for safekeeping, and aimed it at the bubbling cauldron. Muttering the spell and inwardly praying it would work – that her deductions were correct – she watched anxiously as a white beam of light entered the cauldron.

For a second, nothing would happen. And then, the orange fizzling liquid slowly began to calm, the colour slowly draining out of the potion until it turned white.

In the doorway, Luna's eyes were wide, her mouth shaped into a small 'oh. 'Despite her mother's instructions, she reentered the room in the hopes of a closer look.

"It worked!" Her mother beamed, turning her back on the cauldron, giving her daughter an exasperated glance when she saw she was no longer outside the workshop. Behind her, the potion was beginning to emit angry sparks and bubbles, and the bottom of the golden cauldron began to glow a fierce, angry red. "Luna, I told you to stay outside," she admonished. "No matter now, I suppose. Now, I must floo St. Mungo's immediately – "

BOOM!

The cauldron suddenly exploded and angry black smoke filled the entire room.

"Aurora! Luna!" The sound of running footsteps reached Luna's ears and the small girl coughed heavily, slowly sitting up from where she'd fallen.

"Mum?" She croaked out, her silvery eyes tearing up from the smoke. "Where are you?"

"Lu..." A soft voice said and Luna jumped as she felt a trembling hand on top of her skirt-clad leg.

"Mum!"

The smoke began to clear and Luna let out a whimpering cry as she took in the sight of her mother: her clothes and most of her luminous blonde hair had been burned away from her back and head, her entire body was covered in angry, blistering burns. Dry, cracked lips tried to smile. "Everything's going to be alright," her mother said with a wheezing voice, and she squeezed Luna's leg in what she hoped was a comforting motion. "Everything's going to be al..." she choked and a rattling sound escaped her mouth, and then, she fell back, and was silent.

"Mum!"

Xenophilius Lovegood's eyes widened in shock and horror as he finally reached the workroom and took in the sight of the destruction, his daughter kneeling on the floor beside the too still body of her mother and his beloved wife. "Aurora!" His body trembling, he sank down on his knees and frantically began to check for a pulse, finding none. "Aurora!"

Luna let out a weak sob, staring down at her mother's hand, still lying on top of her soot-covered leg, immobile and cooling, never to move again.

* * *

**June, 1991**

In a dreary, rundown industrial city in Northern England on a street called Spinner's End, a crook-nosed Potions Master named Severus Snape rested in an old armchair in the tiny sitting room of his house. The room's walls were lined up with bookcases and the only light came from a candle-filled lamp that hung from the ceiling.

Severus sat in deep thought, staring at nothing as he slowly sipped on a glass of firewhiskey, the alcohol burning in his throat. Unfortunately, the numbness he had been hoping for did not set in, and the memories he had been hoping to suppress instead only got clearer.

As usual, they centred on one thing; Lily Evans. Even now, almost a decade after her death, she was still on his mind, his dreams haunted by her smile and her laughter. But even in his dreams, she was out of his reach, her lustrous red hair flying behind her as she ran ahead – away from him, and towards a shadowy figure that could only have one name: James Potter.

Lily was the only one who had ever made him _feel _something – the only one who had believed in him. Severus supposed Dorcas had, as well, in a way, but never to the same extent – and she had never trusted him completely. Like Lily, she, too, haunted his dreams, though he did not know why – unlike with Lily, he carried no guilt for her death, despite his presence at her execution, and even though they had been lovers, even confidants, for a time.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Severus said, without moving an inch, knowing there was only one person likely to visit him. A second later, he heard the door open and footsteps approach, until a tall, old man, surprisingly spry for his age, stepped inside the room.

"Hello Severus," the man said jovially, his blue eyes twinkling. "I simply wanted to check in to see how you were doing."

"Just fine, thank you, Dumbledore." Severus said in an overly-polite tone of voice.

"Excellent, excellent." Several seconds passed by in silence, Dumbledore simply standing there. After awhile, he began to hum slightly to himself, loud enough to be distracting.

Severus let out a frustrated noise. "Was there something else other than unnecessary_ concern _that brought you here, Headmaster?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if you'd given any _special thought_ to this September." Dumbledore asked innocently. "I'm sure you know the significance as well as I."

Severus' eye twitched. "Of course I do," he said gruffly. "The great_ Boy-Who-Lived_ will finally be at Hogwarts. While I'm sure that makes _you_ happy, I, on the other hand, can only take comfort in the fact that it is still over two months away."

"I can hardly believe it's been nearly ten years already. _Tempus fugit,_ as they say," the Headmaster said, ignoring Severus' lack of enthusiasm. He beamed happily. "It shall be interesting to see how the boy has turned out."

Severus scoffed. "He will be just like his father, of course. A little James Potter carbon-copy, down to the very last detail." His voice was bitter.

"Don't jump to conclusions, Severus," the Headmaster scolded. "He is Lily's son too. Do try to keep an open mind, Severus. You know how important he is. Voldemort is_ not_ gone and as such, it is almost certain that our future rests on Harry's shoulders."

"I know," Severus said, his jaw clenching.

"And I am certain I don't have to remind you of your role?"

Severus gave him a bored look. "Of course not. You already know I will protect him with my life." He turned his head away.

"And it gives you much credit," Dumbledore said. "I will see you in a couple of months, then," he added, before he silently apparated away, leaving Severus sitting alone.

The Potions Master and then raised his glass, swallowing the last of its contents in a single gulp, the wished for numbness finally settling in.

* * *

**July, 1991**

In a cupboard under the stairs, in perfectly normal house on Privet Drive, Surrey, a small boy with green eyes, messy black hair and a strange scar on his forehead, lay on his bed, looking up at the underside of the staircase and watching the spider spinning a web there. The boy was completely unaware of the strange – and magical – turn his life was about to take. And it would all start with a letter...

* * *

_It's been nearly ten years, and Lily's death doesn't hurt any less. Her green eyes are still a constant presence in my dreams and in my nightmares. Soon, I will see those eyes again, but on_ his_ face. _Potter's._ It's all his fault. His pride and his foolish belief in such a thing as loyalty amongst friends. Idiot. He didn't deserve her. And it was all a waste. Lily's death...meaningless. The Dark Lord is still out there, waiting... He will be back. It was all for _nothing._ I know that Dumbledore thinks differently: that as long as the boy lives, there is hope. What is hope but a waste of emotion? Without her, there is nothing to hope _for._ It will all end in blood anyway. Blood and tears (did she cry, when she died?) And yet... she's there, in memory, keeping me from... I don't even know what from. But I will do it. Hope. Even protect her son, even if it's _his _son too. For _her_, anything._

_Always._

_- Severus Snape_

**To Be Continued**  
**in  
**_**Road of Loyalty**_

* * *

**__****Published: **_23/12 -12_

* * *

**Trivia**

TBA.

* * *

**A Note From the Author**

And that's it. The first war is over - with the next story in the series, we are moving into the second and also into the timeline of Harry Potter that we know the best. As I'm sure you've been able to figure out, this 'epilogue' chapter have given you a glimpse into the lives of the characters who will play a main/fairly large/important part in the second war, all of which should be more or less familiar to you by now! All of them won't not necessarily show up in the very next story, but in at least one of the four that is left. Something to look forward to! _Road of Sacrifice_ has been my favourite story in the series to write so far and I hope that has shown - thank you all for following me through this.

The reason there is no trivia yet is because there is a lot of it for this chapter, and I wanted to get this out before the end of 2012 - the trivia will be added later. Happy New Year, and don't forget to follow me or ask for an e-mail or somehow keep an eye on when part 4 comes out: as of now, I don't know the exact date, but I think it might be in the beginning of February, but we'll see - be patient, and I'll see you in 2013!

_Much love,  
Ida (ladyvisionary)_


End file.
